


The Sunset Republic

by Jrussell117



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Married Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Married Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-03-06 03:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 70,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jrussell117/pseuds/Jrussell117
Summary: I don't own the characters or story written by George R.R Martin or the Game of Thrones tv show.This work is something I have had typed up since before season 8 of Game of Thrones. Now that we are near the end it looks like a some people in my story didn't make it on the show.This is a Tyrion/Sansa fic because I have always loved the SanRion fics. This is also a Jon/Dany fic cause I love those too.This story follows basically a reconstruction of the realm. We also see Tyrion and Sansa married, who knows if I got that one right, and Jon and Daenerys married which I think we know what happens there. Tyrion rules as Prime Minister over the Sunset Republic with the help of a Senate. War is on the horizon, nothing new there. We see a new generation of heroes take hold as many young lords and knights seek glory.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is for those of us who knew Sam would write ASoIaF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to follow the tradition GRRM has with writing a Prologue and Epilogue. The realm is in disarray and all our heroes right now are trying to survive in an evil world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story follows basically a reconstruction of the realm. We also see Tyrion and Sansa married, who knows if I got that one right, and Jon and Daenerys married which I think we know what happens there. Tyrion rules as Prime Minister over the Sunset Republic with the help of a Senate. War is on the horizon, nothing new there. We see a new generation of heroes take hold as many young lords and knights seek glory.

It was a warm summer night. The seventh moon of the 318th year after Aegon and his sisters forged seven kingdoms into a greater realm. The Lord of Horn Hill sat in the Minister’s Chambers waiting on the Prime Minister. Tyrion’s chambers were gorgeously adorned with tapestry depicting the Great War on the walls, with cloth of gold around the edges. Black pillars lined the hall depicting a red dragon three-headed circling them. Instead of chamber rushes, Sam spotted Myrish carpet, and Tyrion’s chair looked gorgeous, carved in weirwood with red leather cushions. Sam heard the creak of the giant black ironwood door and watched as Tyrion made his way to that very comfortable looking chair. As always, there was a skin of wine in his left hand, a big ledger in his right. He was dressed in his red velvet tunic, embroidered in gold, with a lion on his chest.

Tyrion brought up the reason for visiting right away. “Greetings Sam, what brings you so far from home?” Sam had a giant leatherbound book in his lap, he cleared his throat “As you know, I have been writing about the period following the Great War.” It had been sixteen years since the Night King was defeated. Samwell had already wrote the history about the conflict the small folk referred to as ‘Return of the Long Night’ or as the Maesters called it ‘The Great War’. More importantly, Sam wanted to set into account all the deeds Tyrion has accomplished in the years following the war. Tyrion inclined his head “Go on, Sam.” _Okay, here we go._ “I’ve nearly completed the novel, it will be called ‘A Realm Reborn’. I just wanted to gain your approval, and commentary on some of the accounts set in the book based on your governance of the realm. I have already been granted approval on most other accounts I’ve written about, you’re the only great lord I haven’t spoke to yet about it.”

“Well Sam, you know I love praise, especially when it’s regarding me, may I see what you’ve written so far?” Sam’s double chin wiggled as he nervously nodded, his teeth rattled, and he handed Tyrion the book for his inspection. After a moment, Tyrion tilted his head at Sam with a smile. “You make me sound like Jaehaerys the Conciliator or Viserys II come again.” _Looks like he likes what I have to say._ “It’s no more than the truth, my lord.” In truth, Tyrion was perhaps the greatest statesman to ever serve the realm. His accomplishments were not exaggerated, not even slightly.. After the Great War, Westeros lay in ruins. The Night King had laid waste to nearly every great castle north of the Neck. Cersei Lannister had destroyed King’s Landing in a mad folly. It was only with the help of dragons, and the swamps of the Neck that stopped the Night King, not to mention Bronn shooting the Night King’s reanimated dragon Viserion with a scorpion bolt made of Obsidian. There were too many heroes to count during that conflict, it would be so easy to forget some. The Seven Kingdoms needed someone who could repair all the damage, and that someone was Tyrion Lannister.

Sam had already completed his account of the Great War, but the realm would require years to recover. Almost every corner of Westeros had been ravaged, the cost in coin and lives unrivaled by any conflict in history. Tyrion was one of the brightest minds in Westeros, perhaps even the world. He knew it would be no easy task in fixing a fractured kingdom destroyed by years of war. A seemingly impossible task, he would do just that. The cost in lives, the collateral damage, it would give the appearance of a land ravaged by apocalypse. _The fourteen flames come again._

Tyrion looked thoughtfully “It was a debt I owed. Jaime saved us, I was a fool to assume Cersei would meekly capitulate and simply leave the city. I killed my brother, because I was merciful to my sister. I..” He had tears in his eyes. _It pains him to think of that, the end of the war. All the smallfolk who died._ Tyrion’s first act was to restructure the rule of monarchs. Daenerys and Jon would assume the roles of King and Queen of the realm, mainly acting as the figurehead of Westeros. By rights the Iron Throne would pass to Jon, but Jon refused to take the name Aegon, even after finding out the truth of his past. He would take the last name, but only so the Targaryen name would live on after his death. Jon and Dany, instead of making their own law with the help of the Hand of the King, would have a senate that represented each of the great regions of Westeros. The realm would be ruled by the senate elected by all the peoples in each of the great regions. Two senators for every region, governing nine in all with Jon and Daenerys acting as judge in final deliberations, and instead of the title of Westeros remaining the Seven Kingdoms, it would now go by the Sunset Republic.

The nine regions of the realm consisted of the Deep North Proper, which the boundary line started where the Wall once stood and expanded all the way past the Frostfangs, which was no longer an eternal frozen wasteland. Next stood the older regions, like the North, the Riverlands, the Westerlands, the Iron Islands, the Stormlands, the Reach, the Vale of Arryn, and finally, Dorne. Tyrion was elected as Prime Minister, an office in which he created. As Prime Minister, he managed the realm. The role of Prime Minister was not the same as the power Kings had in years past, he would help pass decrees, but he didn’t rule anyone in particular, except in the Westerlands. He just enacted certain policies for the benefit of the Sunset Republic. Tyrion assumed many of the roles that made up the Small Council from the past rolled into one.

Some of Tyrion’s best acts as Prime Minister was the reconstruction of King’s Landing, and the construction of a twin city on the opposite side of the Blackwater Rush. King’s Landing was habitable in 314 AC, and New Valyria habitable this past year in 318 AC. Both cities were allowed room for expansion and both cities have walls thirty feet high made of fused black dragonstone. With dragons living once again, Tyrion was interested in utilizing techniques once used by the Freehold of Valyria. This included making Valyrian steel once again. Tyrion had also allowed charters for cities to be built in Winter’s Town in the North, Lord Harroway’s Town and Saltpans in the Riverlands, and the Weepy Town in the Storm Lands. Roads were rebuilt in the fashion of the Dragon Road in Essos. The smallfolk were also given special accordance to make sure they didn’t suffer like they have in the past.

Villages began to sprout up all over the Sunset Republic, and the smallfolk found themselves prospering like never before, with poverty down, and the economy recovering, Tyrion decreed an aqueduct would be built that fed the Stormland’s abundance of water into the deserts of Dorne. Tax reform helped immensely in this regard. All the regions in the realm owed taxes to their liege lord, but twenty percent was reserved for the Sunset Republic, allowing for anything that needed funding to be completed. It wasn’t just the smallfolk, and economy that saw a boost, but education as well. No longer would learning be restricted to the nobles of society. Tyrion established Scholar Houses all across the realm, with everyone from the richest noble, to the meanest peasant being allowed entry for a fee.

Finally, Tyrion felt that Westeros had been caught so off guard by the undead threat that it nearly destroyed humanity. No more would people put themselves at that kind of risk. The White Walkers and their undead minions would never be forgotten, as Tyrion felt that the lack of lettered men in the days of the First Men meant that over time history became myth. Literacy increased all across the continent, all thanks to Tyrion and the other rulers of the realm. Each region had at least one Military School built, with the purpose of training men to be soldiers, and officers. Learning every weapon from the bow, to the spear, from the broadsword, and axe to the arakh, from operating a scorpion or spitfire to shooting a bow from horseback. Every male citizen above sixteen years was required to attend for at least two years. In addition, each region would maintain a conscript army of ten thousand men, with the ability to call on more if need be, and every region was required to have a naval force of at least fifty warships.

The realm would never be caught off guard again. The men trained with the sword, bow, spear, axe, and mace. Military doctrine dictated they learned all manner of discipline and tactic. From Westerosi knights with ranks of shield walls, to the ways of Essos and Dothraki horsemen, and the eunuch unsullied, the men of Westeros were never as skilled in the art of war as they are now. Ship building techniques mirrored that of Braavos , with men specializing in building sections of the ships. Westeros would surpass every nation on earth in terms of military power save the naval might of Braavos.

Tyrion handed Sam the book. “You have a gift with words, Sam. I can hardly wait to read your completed work. I noticed in your ‘Great War’ you make no mention of your own prowess, you are as responsible for our victory as anyone else.” Samwell had felt like a child so nervous he was when he came to speak to Tyrion. _Maybe I was being silly, of course that would be just like me to be afraid of a man scarcely the size of a child. Although… he has killed men before._ “Kind of you to say so, my lord.” Samwell had always held a scholarly disposition. Much better with a quill than with a sword, if there was any way Samwell Tarly had helped defeat the Night King, it was by learning everything he could about the Others and their leader.

“So how is your wife and children, Sam?” Sam smiled “ My little boy Cydwell is everything I’m not, must take after Gilly. He will be a knight some day, as for Gilly’s son, Sam was knighted after he squired for Lord Garlan Tyrell, having earned his spurs after saving Garlan from Myrish pirates six leagues off the coast of Oldtown. Gilly is with child again, we’re hoping for a girl. What about you, my lord?” Tyrion’s face grew thoughtful “ Well, my daughter Catelyn is nine years old, but she is robust and energetic, she looks just like her mother, a mix of gold and auburn hair.. My son Jaime is the splitting image of his father, well, if his father was two feet taller. My son, Tycos.” Tyrion paused for a second. “ Tycos worries me, he has a queer bit of my father, my brother, and me all put into one man.”

Sam knew like everyone else how Tyrion felt for his late father, Tywin. His own father had condemned him to death, for a crime he hadn’t committed. When Tyrion’s brother Jamie had set him free, Varys was supposed to take Tyrion to the ship and no more, yet Tyrion had made his way to the Tower of the Hand to find his father entertaining his own former lover, Shae. Tyrion, already enraged by what Tywin had done to his first wife, killed the woman whom he had once loved, then murdered Tywin. Tyrion had been exonerated for Joffrey, and pardoned for Tywin by order of King and Queen, but some still called Tyrion a kinslayer and kingslayer. “How does Tycos trouble you, my lord? Begging forgiveness, my lord.” Tyrion sighed “He reveres his grandfather, to both Sansa and my frustration. He knows my father was a terrible man, and he knows the role my father played in the Red Wedding, in which his uncle and grandmother died at the Twins. He still has a reverence for his prowess as a commander, and not for the man he became.”

Tyrion sighed “My son told me that sometimes the right choice in war doesn’t feel right in your heart, but it’s the outcome of battle that is important. My father had no problem killing a few small folk, or burning a holdfast to get his point across, but his ruthlessness is what brought an end to him.” Sam didn’t know what to say to that but wanted to reassure Tyrion. Usually the biggest fear he has is trying to figure out whether or not his sons will love him and not think of him as a craven. “Well Lord Tyrion, I think he’s more like you than anything else. You can be ruthless sometimes, only when it’s necessary though. You were skilled enough to defeat seasoned commanders like Stannis Baratheon at the Blackwater and Roose Bolton on the Green Fork. If you had been in King’s Landing when Eddard Stark was alive, it is possible the War of the Five Kings might never have happened.”

Tyrion just shook his head “There is a fine line between instilling fear in your bannerman and smallfolk and committing atrocities. My son means well, he truly does, but he believes our house was nearly brought down by weakness in his great-grandfather Tytos. He also finds no issue with how my father handled the Reynes and Tarbecks. They were traitors, no one denies this, but their children and smallfolk were guiltless.” _He is afraid for his son, afraid of who he is, and what awaits his fate._ “My lord, it’s not too late for him. Has he ever done anything extreme?” Tyrion had despair in his eyes “Not yet, only because I’ve stopped him. When lord Peregywn Foote made it clear he was not happy with the taxes imposed on Nightsong, he threatened not to pay. Tycos would have stripped him of land and title and executed him. I put a stop to that and convinced Lord Peregywn to pay his taxes.”

What Tyrion spoke about was true. Tycos Lannister was quickly gaining a reputation as remorseless in the face of slights committed against House Lannister. _He does command respect though. That is what matters to him, as with Tywin before him._ Tyrion sighed “I try and teach all my children, but I fear trying to teach Tycos will be no easy task. When it comes to skill in arms, Tycos is without peer. He started training with Sandor Clegane at the Westfall War Academy at the age of eight. Tycos learned the way of a military command and strategy. He will make a great general someday. I have to teach him that being utterly remorseless will harm his standing, not help him.”

For a time there was silence, then Sam brought up another subject. “How far along are the the new additions of New Valyria and King’s Landing?” Tyrion was in deep thought and seemed a little startled when Sam broke his concentration. “Mostly completed. King’s Landing is more or less housing the smallfolk and offering a chance to make a decent living. New Valyria is nearly completed as well. We finally completed the bridge between the two cities on both sides of the Blackwater Rush, it’s magnificent. Two keeps on either side, much like the Twins.” Sam had seen the Bridge of Heroes being constructed. On both sides of the bridge every ten yards was a statue commemorating the heroes of the Great War, both living and dead heroes. Bronze statues of Bronn of the Blackwater, Sandor Clegane, Brienne of Tarth, Arya Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Jorah Mormont, Tormund Giantsbane, Eddison Tollet, Thoros of Myr, Beric Dondarrion, Gendry Baratheon, and many others spanned the great bridge, with Jon and Daenerys Targaryen at the end of the bridge near the entrance to New Valyria.

Tyrion also made sure the Gods had their due. A three acre Godswood sat outside the city, although as of yet the Heart Tree has not grown very much. He also built a Sept to replace the Sept of Baelor that was destroyed by Cersei during her trial. Finally, he also built a temple to honor the queer god the red priest revered, R’hllor. The night fires present every night could be seen on both sides of the river. Tyrion was the first one to admit that he was skeptical of the existence of gods, but even he had to admit their was some kind of force at play when it came to R’hllor. He also constructed the House of Black and White at the behest of Arya Stark, although most people didn’t believe in the supernatural claims made by the acolytes of the House of Black and White, many faceless men trained in the temple.

With the new structure of rule established with the creation of the Sunset Republic, Tyrion felt it was important to create an establishment to cater to the size of the Senate. The Senator’s Palace was a gorgeous building made of marble. There was the senate chambers where the senators met to determine law and govern the republic. There were apartments for the senators to live in so they wouldn’t have to travel far when meeting with each other. The Senator’s Palace was also surrounded by the same fused black dragonstone that protected New Valyria, essentially turning the palace into a castle in case of attack. Each senator had their own personal guard of ten men, so they could rest easy knowing they were safe.

Jon and Daenerys had their own keep in the city, designed in the same way Maegor’s Holdfast was in King’s Landing. Jon and Dany had a throne room where the new Iron Throne resided. Tyrion also had his apartment in the Dragon Keep, as well as his own personal attendance hall when people called upon him. There also was an audience chamber for the senators to meet during special occasions. The city itself cultivated trade with other lands, brothels catered to foreigner and domestic customer alike. Tyrion even established a bank much like the banks found in the Free Cities. He truly did a splendid job in building the twin cities.

“How are things going in the Reach, Sam?” _He is always working, it must be hard to spend so much time tending affairs and keeping the realm afloat._ “Things are good, my lord. We have never seen such prosperous harvest. Ulton Hightower has increased trade tenfold and is a capable ruler. Garlan Tyrell has also overseen success as Warden, the Reach has not had such a shrewd leader since the days of House Gardener.” The Great War had not really effected the Reach as it had other parts of Westeros, but House Tyrell was nearly destroyed by Cersei and Jaime Lannister. Cersei had killed Mace, Loras, and Margaery Tyrell during her trial. Jaime Lannister and Sam’s own father Randyll Tarly had sacked Highgarden, resulting in the death of Willas Tyrell. In an act of mercy, Jaime gave Olenna Tyrell poison in place of a painful death at the hands of Cersei Lannister. Garlan Tyrell was the only one to survive out of his entire family, if had he not been fighting Ironborn near the Shield Islands he might have suffered the same fate.

Tyrion and Sam had spent most of the night talking about history, the affairs of the realm, and both of them were more than a little tired. _What a man, this dwarf. It is a monstrous task trying to rule justly, and fairly, yet he does it so gracefully. The world needs more men like him._ Jon was Sam’s friend, and a great hero, yet Sam knew that Jon and Daenerys wouldn’t have been able to keep the realm together without Tyrion. Tyrion smiled at Sam “Looks like the sun is rising, Sam. I feel like I have condemned you to a miserably long day.”

Sam only smiled back at him “It’s quite okay, Lord Tyrion. We all miss out on rest sometimes. I’m just happy to finally have this book done.” Tyrion chuckled “You didn’t enjoy putting to words the effort it took repairing a broken realm?” _No, it was just weary trying to cover every detail._ “No Lord Tyrion, that isn’t what I meant.”

Tyrion was about to speak when there was a knock on the door. _Podrick, no, Ser Podrick. I must remember that._ Tyrion beckoned him into his chambers. He was wearing a purple, white, and yellow tunic, the colors of his house, and woolen breeches. He was leader of Tyrion and Sansa’s personal guard, and everyone knew that they had a close relationship. Podrick greeted Sam and then directed his stare towards Tyrion “Lord Tyrion, Lord Varys is without and begs an audience with you.” Tyrion gave a nod “Very well, Pod. He may enter, although I don’t see why he has to see me this early in the morning.” Varys gingerly walked into Tyrion’s chambers with a rolled up parchment in his right hand. He was wearing a long tan robe with a red sash. “Prime Minister, Lord Tarly, I bring tidings from the east.” Tyrion unrolled the letter and read it aloud. “This goes out to all the nobles, and freeborn men and women from every land. The people of Volantis have finally realized our great purpose and support the Tigers in their goal of forging an empire. With the great power of New Ghis and Volantis we do hereby ask you to recognize a new nation upon Essos and the world. Henceforth, we will be known as the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire. Fealty is required from every nation of the world. We will allow pre existing nations full autonomy, but we require homage from all. Those who fail to honor this decree will face the wroth of the Volantene Ghiscari Dual Empire.”

_What’s this now? Do they really intend on reducing all nations into vassals?_ Tyrion had a amused expression on his face before looking to Varys “The Tigers have always advocated a policy of conquest. It never goes well for them. The news you bring us is nothing new.” Varys pulled out another scroll “This is.” Tyrion read the note, stood up and gently spoke to Podrick Payne. “Pod, wake my page and tell him to wake the senators, tell him to wake the King and Queen as well, they will want to know of this. Tell them I require them in the chambers at the Senator’s Palace.” _What did the letter say that troubles lord Tyrion so?_ Tyrion bid Sam farewell as he half walked and half ran out of the Royal Keep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We see that just like in real life with World War 1 that Europe was still dealing with the aftermath of everything. Then not even a month later she is living with him and everything.


	2. The Heir I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to introduce some new characters in this story. The timeline of my fanfic is 16 years after the Great War and in the books there is a character named The Tattered Prince. He always wanted Pentos and I feel like children often follow in their parent's footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a new character and I want to show what it is like for both sides in the coming conflict.

 

Salam’s head was pounding.  _ Too much wine, you fool. You knew what would happen. You always drink too much.  _ It had been a grand occasion that required celebration. The Triarch of Volantis, Havarys Vathar along with the ruler of New Ghis, Grazdan Zikathy forged the long awaited empire that would rule the world. It was destined to be ever since the old Valyrian Empire was destroyed centuries ago. The two factions in Volantis had always been at odds with each other. The Tigers controlled Volantis during the Century of Blood but after a long succession of defeat, the Elephants who desired trade over conquest had taken control and for the most part they had held it ever since. The Tigers finally gained some ground when the leaders realized how weak everyone was and chose this time as the perfect time to achieve their goals.

Instead of making war on New Ghis, Havarys was intent on forming a dual empire allowing for two emperors to rule the whole world. They had armies, thousands of men, ships, and free companies, all ready to strike and conquer. Salam was approached by Volantis in hopes of hiring the Windblown. Salam was the son of the Tattered Prince, and the Tattered Prince had desired Pentos, so that was the price this new empire would have to pay for his allegiance.  _ I will honour my father, and rule Pentos as he was meant to rule Pentos.  _ Salam had five thousand men in his company. All told, the free companies bolstered the Volantene-Ghiscaricari armies by over thirty thousand men. 

If they were successful in forming an alliance with Khal Bhaka and his forty thousand screamers then that would be over a hundred thousand soldiers under Volantene-Ghiscaricari command, and even more if the Free Cities join them.  _ Now wouldn’t that be something? When has Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys ever got along long enough to win a war?  _ Salam sat in his pavilion, head pounding, reading a map and contemplating his next move. “Captain, Hovarys and Grazdan request your presence in the palace.” Salam nodded, stood up, and rolled up the map. When Salam walked up the steps of the palace he reached the entrance guarded by two slave soldiers. “I was ordered to speak to Hovarys and Grazdan.” The soldiers exchanged a look and moved aside to let him pass.  _ What is it this time? I swear if they bitch at me for the behaviour of my men…  _ “You requested to see me.” Hovarys spoke up, Grazdan remained silent.

“We almost have all of our affairs in order. Khal Bhaka has agreed to our terms, he is going to lead his riders to Pentos with the Windblown.  _ What madness is this? Dothraki?  _ “I need no horse lords. These savages lack discipline and I don’t see how they will help in taking a walled city. They will grow unruly.” Grazdan spoke this time “It is true. These grass stained savages can’t ride over walls. We have more to ask of you. Qohor, Norvos, Lorath, and Braavos all lay north of Pentos. Should these people refuse to bow to the power of the Volantene-Ghiscaricari Empire, they will rue it. You will ride north after taking Pentos, either to accept their fealty or to destroy them You will await the Dothraki near the Dothraki Sea and then start west.”  _ Is this a jape? _

  
Salam was not happy, Dothraki were not known for their obedience. Salam didn’t have much of a choice though. It was either fight alongside Dothraki or lose Pentos, the decision wasn’t hard. Salam cleared his throat “When do we march?” Both Grazdan and Hovarys both spoke. “At Once.” And that was that, he exited the palace and started towards his camp. He saw one of his sergeants, Waltho, and started giving him orders. “Inform the other officers that we march at once to the Dothraki Sea.” Waltho looked confused “My lord?” Salam grew impatient. “You heard me, gather all the others, we march at once, and keep the baggage train in good order.” 

 

Within an hour, Salam and the Windblown were on the march. The Dothraki Sea was still three days away.  _ Giving me orders to fight alongside Dothraki is going to cost us time, this is foolish.  _ His anger didn’t subside much when he finally reached the Dothraki Sea. Salam sent out scouts. There was no sign of any Dothraki and Salam didn’t have time for this waiting.  _ These whoresons better hurry up or I’m like to forget about them. I could be halfway to Pentos right now.  _ He wouldn’t have the numbers to take the cities north of Pentos without them, but he had no desire to anyway. Pentos was ripe for conquest, and everyone knew it. Pentos had fought many wars with Braavos, all of them resulting in defeat. Pentos managed to finally win one battle and used that opportunity to sue for peace. The price of peace was not cheap. Pentos was forbidden a military, slaves, ships, anything that might pose a military threat. 

Now Pentos is a shadow of its former glory.  _ I will change that, I will restore Pentos to prestige once again.  _ Once he captured the cities to the west, they would be joined to the new empire and the Volantene-Ghiscaricari Empire will be that much stronger. Salam heard the sound of hoofbeats and turned his gaze. “Captain, we’ve located the Dothraki, they are five leagues from here.” Salam nodded “Good.” It was near dark when the Dothraki finally arrived.  _ Bloody hell, nobody even thought to bring a translator. This will be amusing.  _ “Windblown, do we have anyone who understands these mongrels?” A man stepped forward “I can, Captain.” 

 

“Very well, what is your name?” The man spoke up. “My name is Daynwell.” Salam gave him orders to relay to the Dothraki. They would camp here tonight and set out towards Pentos on the morrow. “Make sure men get a good rest, we have a grueling march ahead of us.”

Salam didn’t sleep much that night. When he realized he would get no rest he found himself a woman. He lay in his pavilion watching the sun rise, goblet of wine on his nightstand. After an hour he had his officers sound the horn and the men started donning their armor, sharpening their weapons or rubbing them with oil cloth. Soon they were in formation.  _ I better check my Dothraki.  _ Salam found Daynwell. “Tell Khal Bhaka we march at once. Tell him to keep in pace with the Windblown, we have only a fraction of the mounted men he does.”

Daynwell nodded and entered the Dothraki camp.

Once Salam had all his men in line he gave a speech. “I’ve wanted Pentos as long as I can remember. Like my father before me, only this time I plan on realizing the dream he could not achieve. Help me take it and there will be more gold in it than you can imagine. After we take Pentos then it is north to Norvos, Qohor, Braavos, and perhaps Lorath. These cities are rich, poorly defended, and have no belly for fighting, save Braavos.” _ Maybe my reward will be all of these cities, I see no problem with that.  _ “Gold, women, you name it, all we have to do is kill a few eunuchs. What say you?” The men cheered, and Salam knew he had them. “Come, we march.” Salam wheeled his horse towards the west and the men followed. The Dothraki would stick to themselves he suspected. He didn’t need them to understand him, he just needed them to do what they do best which was killing.

There were cities on the way to Pentos, cities the Dothraki might have sacked had Salam allowed it, but he didn’t. They had already waited long enough for the Dothraki, he did not intend on waiting again. Something nagged at Salam while on the march, something he had not thought about until now.  _ The Sunset Republic… They are allied to Pentos and have a good relationship with Braavos.  _ If Pentos or Braavos call on Westeros for aid, would they come? The power of the Sunset Republic was hard to gauge, seeing as they rarely engaged the nations of Essos in warfare. There were some cases, like Aegor Rivers and the Daemon Blackfyre, all of which ended in defeat for Rivers and Blackfyre. The Ninepenny Kings likewise failed in their quest to conquer Westeros.

Other instances like Storm’s End or Winterfell sending forces across the Narrow Sea likewise ended badly for Essos.  _ I better tread lightly here, or maybe I’ll be the one under siege.  _ As far as Salam knew, nobody except Hovarys and Grazdan knew of his planned attack on Pentos. Westeros had nearly been destroyed, by the undead often found in a child’s fantasy if they could be believed. Even after sixteen years, the Sunset Republic was still reeling from the effects of that war. It was possible for them to help defend their ally. If the Sunset Republic did respond with force, he could fight them with the men he had, especially the Dothraki. Dothraki were notorious for their bloodlust, so he didn’t see any problem with asking them to help deal with any Westerosi who crossed the sea. This was something that could wait however, he would dwell on it later. Right now all he wanted to focus on was getting to Pentos intact. 

 

Salam knew what came next. If he took these cities in the west, Westeros would surely be the next objective in New Ghis and Volantis’ goal of ruling the world. Braavos was the real danger. Hovarys and Grazdan were fairly certain that if Braavos fell, there would be no global power to prevent them from invading Westeros.  _ They’re bold, I’ll give them that.  _ The leaders of Westeros were no pushovers. If the tales were true about the dead men, which Salam highly doubted, even with all the strange and mysterious things he has seen, Salam knew the Sunset Kingdoms were very formidable.  _ This war will end either very good, or very ill for the Volantene-Ghiscaricari Empire.  _ Both nations commanded large conscript armies. Both were naval powers to be reckoned with, and Salam knew there was no way of implementing a blockade on Westeros.  _ Their coast is so…. Vast.  _

The day was growing old, Salam gave the order to halt and rest up. Within half an hour, Dothraki campfires and sellsword tents littered the plains. Five days march west stood his city, as ripe as it was likely ever to be, Salam may never get a chance like this again. The night air felt cool on his chest as he stared off into the distance from the entrance to his blue and white pavilion. Inside was a table made of solid oak, four candles burning bright on top. Salam studied the map, pondering strategy, logistics, trying to figure out his best course of action.  _ Dothraki have no taste for siegecraft. They will want to ride heedlessly into the gates of Pentos.  _ Salam didn’t know if he wanted that or not. It would certainly rid him of unruly troops, plus he didn’t really want the riches of the city pillaged. If he used them as a vanguard, and they broke the gates, all Salam needed to do was march in and take the prize. The Dothraki would suffer the brunt of the losses, thousands might die.  _ Yes, this ought to work splendidly. Two birds for the price of one stone.  _

That night Salam slept deeper, and better than he had for weeks. The wine helped in that regard. He dreamt of gardens full of splendor, fountains, beautiful maids, and gold, lots and lots of gold. He didn’t care about ruling a sprawling empire. He had more realistic ambitions. Salam’s father had wanted Pentos, had led the Windblown against the Mother of Dragons, and lost the battle against a bunch of cockless men and two old knights. What kind of general fails in such great fashion as the Tattered Prince? Sure, he was betrayed by men like that old fool Brown Ben Plumm, that dwarf, and an exiled knight, but he was the one to fall into such a trap. Salam would make no such mistake.

 

“Lord Captain.” Salam opened his eyes to see Waltho standing inside his pavilion. Salam rubbed at his eyes. “What is it, Waltho?” Waltho spoke “It’s an hour before dawn. You wanted to be awakened at the break of dawn.” Salam gave a curt nod “Very well, I’m up, leave me.” Salam dressed in grey steel painted with the colours of his free company, blue and white. He buckled on his sword belt and walked outside into the cool morning air. Salam gave command to Waltho. “Sound the trumpets, we march in one hour. Tell Daynewell to inform the savages.” After that task was done, the camp was beginning to come to life. Tents folded up, fires extinguished, food spooned down. 

By midday they had walked ten miles, by the end of the day they had made great strides towards Pentos. The next few days saw little activity of note besides endless marching. They came across no scouts that could give away their position. Most leaders had no idea a large force was even mobilized and marching to war. The Sunset Republic would likely have concerns when they found out Pentos had fallen, but a preemptive strike like this might convince them that war was a bad thing to chance. From what Salam had gathered, most of Westeros was weary of war after supposedly vanquishing the Mad Queen and this supposed Night King. Perhaps they would sit this war out. That would be a mistake however, the Volantene-GhiscariEmpire wanted to assimilate all nations into one greater nation, and he had doubts about whether or not Daenerys Targaryen or Tyrion Lannister would bend the knee to such a threat.

 

“Lord Captain, the city is up ahead.” Waltho was known for his ability to point out the obvious. “Last time I checked, I had eyeballs in my skull.” Salam dismissed Waltho, saddled his horse, and rode to meet with the Prince of Pentos, flanked by two Dothraki guards. Salam was clad in armor, the savages in horse leather, the so called Prince was dressed in a red silk robe and he was very fat, twenty stone at the least. The prince had guards with him as well, they wore the same spiked helms the Unsullied were famous for wearing.

The fat prince broke the silence. “I am Semaro Tempatis, Prince of Pentos.” Salam introduced himself and the Windblown, along with the Dothraki. “What business do sellswords have with Pentos?” Salam didn’t see the point in lying to the man. “We are here to offer terms of alliance, all you need do is pay homage to the new Volantene-Ghiscari Empire as overlord.” Semaro scoffed at that “Pentos owes obedience to no one.” Salam shrugged “Very well, we will take the city regardless of where your allegiance is bound. Only afterwards, the city will lack a Prince.” Judging by the look on Semaro, he wasn’t pleased with that prospect. Both parties departed without a word and Salam went back to camp.

The city wouldn’t fall in a day, but Salam knew the Pentoshi did not have the numbers to repel the Windblown and Dothraki for long. The city sealed their own fate with Semaro Tempatis rejecting his terms. Salam called a meeting in his pavilion and explained to his captains how to best proceed. “Form siege lines around the city, we will build siege engines, catapults, and trebuchets. The city won’t hold for long and they have no hope in finding help. The Sunset Republic does not have the heart for another war.”  _ Let us hope so. _ “Once the city is ours we march north to capture other cities once we meet up with reinforcements from New Ghis.” After he was done he told them to make all preparations to achieve victory at once. Khal Bhaka was informed of their plans through Daynewell’s words. Dusk was almost upon them, and they had a long day ahead of them on the morrow. Salam undressed and climbed into bed.  _ At last, my dream is a reality. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think of this, I feel like Volantis and New Ghis dream of conquest and with their combined wealth and power believe they can finally achieve their goal.


	3. Tyrion I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to kind of show how the realm is ran as a Republic. Tyrion has the office of Prime Minister with Jon and Dany's title being ceremonial. Much like the Royal Family and Prime Ministers of Great Britain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion is smart, and he knows that even if the lords want to avoid war, they will still have it. Better to be prepared than to be caught with your breeches down.

As Tyrion waited on the senators to arrive, he found himself admiring the gorgeous tapestry on the walls, the floor was checkered with black onyx and white marble. Tyrion wore the crimson red leather doublet Sansa had made for him with brown woolen breeches. The sixty foot red oak table was fashioned in the same way as the painted table on Dragonstone. The Senator’s Chambers did not lack in elegance and was very fitting for the leaders of the republic. Each chair at the oak table had a carved figurehead of the house each senator had come. There were a total of twenty-five chairs at the table. Nineteen for the senators, one for the Prime Minister, two for King and Queen, one for the Lord Commander of the Royal Guard, one for the Grand Admiral of the Republic, and one for the Grand Marshal of the Republic. 

As Tyrion waited, he studied the chairs in all their splendor. The Westerlands represented by the Boar of Byron Crakehall, the Purple Unicorn of Horford Brax. The Reach by Marlon Hightower’s White Tower crowned in flame, Aleric Beesbury and the three beehives. The North represented by Walton Manderly and his Merlin on teal, Sigorn Thenn, Lord of the Dreadfort and a chair crowned with a bronze disk in a ring of red flames on a white field. The Riverlands represented by Petyr Mallister and his silver eagle, Brynden Blackwood and his ravens surrounding a dead weirwood tree. Next he spied the Vale seats of Andrek Royce with black iron studs on bronze, Glidden Hunter and the five silver arrows fanned on brown. The Iron Islands and Rodrik Harlaw’s Scythe on Sable, Theon Greyjoy’s gold kraken on black. The boisterous Stormlanders with Dameron Seaworth and the onion on a black sail, Elton Estermont and the green sea turtle. The Deserts of Dorne with Albin Manwoody’s Crowned Skull, the dashing Jaderic Dayne with the white sword and star on purple. The Deep North and the so called free-folk represented by Toregg Giantsbane and the likeness of his bearded father on his chair. Alver Ryk and the silver spear that Tyrion suspected was designed by his father. The King and Queen’s chair, the three-headed dragon and direwolf on each side of both chairs. The Lord Commander of the Royal Guard, the black bear of Jorah Mormont, the golden kraken on the chair of the Grand Admiral Victarion Greyjoy. Finally, Tyrion glared at the golden Lannister lion on the chair at the end, and wondered what all the lords would think of it. They had lacked a Grand Marshal and Tyrion intended on making known whom he intended that office would be granted.

The oak doors slowly opened. The steward, Falmon Tully entered the room dressed in his father’s colours and announced Jon and Daenerys. They made small talk while others slowly made their way into the room. Jon was brooding in silence as always. Daenerys was the first person to break the silence. “What word do you have from Essos?” He cleared his throat “nothing good, Pentos is under siege by Dothraki and sellswords under the orders of the new Volantene-Ghis Empire.” The anger was clearly written across her face. It would seem like Sam and Gilly weren’t the only ones expecting a child. Daenerys was starting to show signs of her fourth pregnancy. Their son Brandon was of an age with Tyrion’s son Tycos. Rhaenys was ten, and Daeron five. Tyrion smiled at Jon “So you’re both expecting a child. I believe congratulations are in order.” That broke Jon out of his trance. “Yes, we are. Thanks, my lord.” Other lords made their way into the chambers and finally everyone Tyrion intended on speaking to was in the room.

 

_ Time to serve the first dish, let us see if they like the taste.  _ “I’ve already spoken to you about the matter, but there have been some… complications. It appears that the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire is vexing us and attacking one of our chief partners in trade, Pentos.” The senators didn’t disappoint him. There was discontent throughout the hall. Tyrion resumed “Now we have to decide what to do about the matter.” Rodrik Harlaw spoke up “Do they seek aid, my Lord?” Horford Brax interjected “Even if they do, what can we do for them at the present? If we mean to send them aid by way of men and gold, would it make a difference? I don’t see how we can hope to lift the siege in time, it would all be for nought.” Brax wasn’t entirely wrong, Pentos was not known for their belligerent nature. They were merchants, and had no belly for war, not after the terms imposed on them by Braavos in the Century of Blood, but they were among the republic’s largest partners in trade. Byron Crakehall added his voice to the issue “Why should we send men to die in Essos, to fight a war on another continent, when no such aid was given to us during the Great War?” Sigorn spoke in his gruff voice “What help did you southron kneelers send against the dead?” Fat Lord Walton Manderly felt poised to add to that. “Yes, seems to me the North won the war for the dawn. You southron lords scoffed at the entire idea of dead rising and invading the North” Daenerys cut him off angrily “My dragons, my Unsullied, my Dothraki, the Vale, Riverlands. Even men from the west all came to aid the north, my lord.”

Daenerys looked to Jon “What do you think about these developments?” Jon looked at everyone, in a way only he could “I think that sending aid is the best thing we can do. Westeros left the Wall to its own devices. Failing to act on the threat until it was nigh on impossible to fight the dead. Seems to me that it would be foolish to let the Volantene and Ghiscari take down cities piecemeal, gaining support until it becomes a problem for us.”  _ I see I’m not alone in this hall, now let’s see what they have to say about this.  _ “I couldn’t agree more.” They all turned their gaze to Tyrion. “As you all know, I intended on resigning my office, and taking my place as Warden of the West, raising my younger children. I don’t see how that’s possible until this is resolved, by whatever means.” Elton Estermont took the bait “So what are you saying, my lord?” Tyrion smiled “I’m saying if we agree to fight we need to send word to each region. I want your men, I want your ships. Set to harvest all we can. We have to vote on the matter, what do you say, Senators?” Most of them agreed, they all began to raise their hands, but for a few like Brax. “Each of you are to send word to the lords of each region, twenty-five ships from each region, I want them in Blackwater Bay. Eight thousand each, professional soldiers, I want them here.” The lords were speechless. It was a lot to ask for and Tyrion knew it.

  
  


Jaderic Dayne in stunned disbelief spoke next. “Prime Minister, must we send so many?! You ask for so many.”  _ We’ll need more before this is done, I suspect.  _ “We do, make no mistake my lords, war is on the horizon. Whether we will it or not. We have a choice, extinguish the flame while it is still small, or wait until the fires are out of control. If the cities in Essos fall, the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire will know there are no allies we can call upon, and then they will set their gaze towards Westeros. Many of you are of Andal descent, are you familiar with that tale?” Tyrion looked to Rodrik Harlaw and Theon Greyjoy. “Send for Victarion.” He next turned to the senators of the west. “Send word to my son, Tycos. I intend on him leading the men.” Jon objected “Tyrion, he’s still a boy, if there must be an attack, I will lead it.” Tyrion shook his head. “No, you’re the King, we cannot risk your person, your grace. And Tycos is the same age you were when named Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. He is well suited to be Grand Marshal. I want others too, Jorah, you will have to send for someone to take your place here at the Senate and capital while you’re gone. You will be advising my son.”

Jorah was caught off guard “My lord? I can’t abandon the Royal Guard. The King and Queen need me.” Daenerys touched his shoulder. “If Lord Tyrion needs you for this task then we can find a temporary replacement until you return.” Marlon objected “Prime Minister, surely there are experienced men who can hold that office. Garlan Tyrell perhaps.” Tyrion shot him down “No, my son has been groomed for this office since he was a young boy, Sansa and I will speak to him of the importance.”   _ Here comes the dagger.  _ Tyrion looked towards his King and Queen. Those he had advised for so long. “Brandon shall also serve as a general in the field. He will be second in command. He is close with Tycos from what I hear.” Daenerys objected but Jon agreed with Tyrion. Jon spoke to Dany gently “He needs to do this. He is ready.” Daenerys felt the jaws of the trap closing in “Fine, he can take Drogon. We will need a dragon if it should come to fighting.” Tyrion broke in “No, we will send no dragons to Essos.” Petyr Mallister spoke for the first time “My lord, those dragons can tip the scales of any battle.”  _ Precisely.  _ “That is why we must keep them here. We have what? Two dragons fit for war? The others are still too young. If for some reason the fighting goes against us, I don’t want to lose our biggest advantage. Dragons are hard to kill but they can be killed. The enemy may have the means to kill them in Essos, but they hold no advantage here”

They all finally agreed on what must be done. Tyrion looked to Dany again “I will depart for Braavos in a fortnight, with our King. I want a strong escort, I don’t like surprises.” Daenerys again found herself objecting, Jorah as well, but Tyrion needed Jon for something and a King had much more of an impact than a dwarfish envoy. “We need allies, and we represent the republic. You are with child, and my son needs Jorah, we have others in the Royal Guard and Jon is a renowned figure throughout the world.” Dany finally began to budge, albeit reluctantly. Tyrion felt they were all in agreement. “So we’ve made the plans, see to them my lords. We shall meet again to discuss with our generals and see what they think should be done. I know you all have a lot to see to, I bid you good day. I’d like to speak with our King and Queen alone.”

 

When all the senators departed, Tyrion called on Falmon Tully. “Falmon, send for Grand Maester Paleon.” The boy left to his task and they were alone again. “Your wife won’t be very happy about all this, my lord.” No doubt Jon was right, but he couldn’t retire from that office now, not if the Sunset Republic went to war. “I will talk to my wife, she is very protective of her family, but I can convince her of the importance this matter holds.”  _ I wonder what her reaction to this will be. Surely she could go without seeing her ugly husband for a few months.  _ Jon smiled at Tyrion and Daenerys. “I don’t know Tyrion, we are helpless when it comes to our wives. They rule us as much we do the republic.”  _ He’s right, Gods save me. I’d rather face a dragon right now than tell her. She was so ready to leave.  _ “I planned on turning in my badge within the turn of the moon. This is something I can’t do now, I know Volantis all too well. If the Tigers took control they mean to accomplish their ultimate goal. That isn’t all, both of you should read this.” Tyrion handed them the scroll. Jon read it out loud “Myr, Lys, Tyrosh have declared for the Volantene-Ghiscari empire. Lockstep Legions of New Ghis have joined their power with Yunkai. Astapor has fallen, we will hold out as long as we can, we’ve fired the fields but a siege is imminent. Who sent this, my lord?” Tyrion looked to Daenerys. “Daario Naharis is a lot better with reading and writing now.” Daenerys was ready to spit blood. “I told the Wise Masters I would burn their cities to the ground if they betrayed me again. I will show them what happens when you bite the dragon’s tail.”  _ I was afraid of how she would take the news. _

__ Jon was lost. “They betrayed you? Who is Daario Naharis?” Dany looked to Tyrion, perhaps for help. He saved her. “He currently rules Meereen, installed by your wife when she took up the fight with the dead here. I was Hand of the Queen at the time and we felt the leader of the Stormcrows would serve best in Meereen.” The relief was plain on her face, Tyrion knew she wasn’t eager to let out some other details about the man. “Oh, well if you both see him as an ally then so shall I.”  _ By the time this is over, I’m sure we will need all the help we can find.  _ “When we marshal all our power, we will determine the best course of action. I will call on my council to make sure we have food, supplies, gold, anything we will need. Our generals, admirals; they can devise battle plans.”

 

They continued to talk with each other. The three of them had a special relationship. Jon and Daenerys were as much in love as ever before. Tyrion had a strong relationship with Daenerys ever since she had taken him into her service in Essos. Jorah initially begrudged Tyrion over that aspect but Jorah had grown to accept that Tyrion was as important to her as he was, and regardless of who Tyrion was, he was her best choice in terms of advice and council. Jon had been a friend ever since they met at Winterfell. Back when Jon was still a bastard, and Tyrion was the most famous dwarf in the Seven Kings, the whoremongering disappointment to his family. Knowing Tyrion had a soft spot for cripples, bastards, and broken things, they had bonded even further at the Wall, and after Tyrion helped his late brother, Bran.  _ It feels like a thousand years ago now, we’ve all grown older now.  _ Jon and Dany were still young, Tyrion was nearing his forty-fifth name day, luckily for him he had a young and beautiful wife, somehow she had fallen in love with him.  _ During our wedding night I wanted to penetrate that armour of courtesy, I wanted to help her, aye, and to bed her.  _ She had not wanted him on her wedding night, but somehow she realized in this shit world they live in, beauty was not all it was cracked up to be.

Finally after a while, the boy Falmon returned with Grand Maester Paleon. He greeted them. “My King, my Queen, Prime Minister. How may I assist you?” Tyrion had sent for him so he spoke “I need you to write to my son Tycos. He is at Westfall Academy near Clegane Keep. I wish to speak with him, also send for Prince Brandon. Where might we find him, your grace?” “He is with your son, at Westfall.” Tyrion gave a curt nod and continued. “Tell them the matter is urgent and cannot wait. They must depart as soon as possible.” The Grand Maester nodded and left. Tyrion finished his wine. It was fine stuff, but his belly hurt all the same.  _ War, that’s what it is. We’re not ready for this, yet nobody ever is.  _ “Well, my King, my Queen, I better scamper off, I have a wife to confront, and I promised to have dinner with my family. Roast Boar, give your children my regards.” They bid him farewell and he set off for the hardest task he has had since assuming the office he had created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what I feel like a real council meeting would go. You can't make everyone happy, even when they're wrong.


	4. Sansa I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter serves to show us how Sansa would react to the news of him remaining Prime Minister. She wants more time with him and knows she can't have that with him as PM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know in practically every Sansa/Tyrion fic she ends up pregnant, but I wanted this to serve as a catalyst for the wants and needs of Sansa. She thinks a baby might sway him but Tyrion knows he has a duty to the realm.

    “Lady Sansa, when did you last have your moon’s blood?” _I.._ “I can’t remember, it has been a while.” Sansa had been feeling ill, that was true. She had never been great at keeping track of her red flower. Tyrion and Sansa had not known about Tycos until she was showing. Perhaps she was with child this time. If so she was happy she had Maester Frenken. Tyrion trusted him above all other maesters so she would too. “Do you think I am with child?” “Well Lady Sansa, I’d say so. You say your breast are tender, you have felt dizziness, you make water frequently, you have been sick, no fever. I can see the prospect brings you joy.” _It does, Tyrion has been wanting another child too. Ever since we lost Seria._ The child had died only a day after birth, Sansa barely survived the birth. That was two years ago. The loss was hard on both of them, Tyrion especially. “Yes, I am very excited. You can send for my handmaidens. I don’t want them to know, I will inform Tyrion myself, and you know how they like to gossip.” Both girls Sansa cherished deeply. Tyrion had brought them into their service for Sansa, and she was grateful he cared so much. Any handmaiden would have served but Jessela was a Locke and knew her homes. Darnette was a Lannister of Casterly Rock but she became a fast friend to Sansa.

    The maester departed and not long after there was a knock on the door. “You may enter.” It was Darnette, daughter of Tyrion’s cousin Daven. Tyrion was very close to Daven and he was the Lord Steward of Casterly Rock while Tyrion served his remaining term as Prime Minister. Darnette was a close companion of Sansa. At first Sansa was a bit weary of having another Lannister in her service. She soon found out how her fears were unfounded. Sansa supposed every family had bad seeds. Tywin was not a good man when he was alive, and Lancel was little better, and Cersei was worst of all. Jaime had been a good man however, and Tyrion was lost when his brother died. Like how she reacted with her own family, Tyrion was very distraught over the loss of someone he considered as his closest friend. One thing Sansa did appreciate was how close she and Tyrion became after Jaime’s heroic death. If not for Jaime, Tyrion and Sansa would surely have perished.

 _The months after Jaime died, we were both broken, and we fixed each other. We made a son._ When Sansa had left Winterfell with her father, betrothed to Joffrey, she thought her song was beginning. Not long afterwards, she realized the folly committed by her, and her father in trusting Robert and Joffrey. _I thought my song was over. In the end, my life did become a song. The prophecy my father had foreseen did come to pass, I did find a man who was brave, and_ _gentle, and strong._ Sansa was ashamed of her behaviour towards Tyrion when they had wed at the bidding of his father Tywin. It was a marriage neither of them had wanted.   _But he wanted to pierce the armour of courtesy, to protect me, and I couldn’t let him in._ She didn’t have it in her to trust a Lannister, even one as kind as Tyrion. Now Sansa was truly a Lannister, she dressed as a Lannister in Lannister colours, she was married to the ruler of the Westerlands, and the Sunset Republic. She was proud to be his wife, to him Lannister children with the same golden hair, and to be the lady of Casterly Rock.

Other lords would want their wives to take up their position as the lady of their house but she hadn’t wanted to leave Tyrion, and he wanted her close, to which she was duly grateful. She was arguably more infatuated with Tyrion than he was with her. _He is the smartest, kindest, bravest man I know, for all his size._ Darnette broke Sansa’s day-dream. “My lady, you sent for me?” “I did, Darnette. My lord husband will be here soon, I wish to bathe and make myself presentable for him.” The girl drew the bath for her, that was when Jessela Locke entered. “Jessela, I would like the evening meal served, send to the cooks and have them prepare our meal. You and Darnette should eat too, but me and Tyrion would like to have some privacy. “Very well, my lady, I shall see to it at once.” Sansa nodded while Darnette washed her hair. Soon afterwards she helped Sansa out of the bath.

    “Is this dress the one you wish to wear for Lord Tyrion?” It was a crimson red dress, velvet fabric with silken gold trim around the neck and on the sleeves. _I’m truly a lady of the north, but I am proud to don Lannister colours, his colours._ “It is perfect, Darnette.” Sansa was wearing her hair in a northern braid, just like Tyrion loved. “Lady Sansa, are you excited to depart west?” “I am, it has been a while since I have been home. The capital is nice, but it doesn’t compare to the seaside sunset, beautiful hills, and lush forest of the Westerlands.” The  little girl was dreamy eyed thinking about it. It had been a long time since she had been home as well. “I’m sure you miss it as well, your mother and father too I suppose.” Darnette laughed at the comment. “I miss the lands, my father can be a trial though. I do miss him, and my mother. Amerei Frey was one of the few Freys that Sansa actually liked. Amerei, Perwyn, Roslin and Olyvar were good people, nothing like how Lothar, Walder Rivers, or Hosteen Frey were when they lived.

Sansa would miss the Royal Apartments in New Valyria, they were nicely furnished, but her home in Casterly Rock and even Winterfell gave her more comfort. Perhaps they could visit the north. Tyrion had done all he could to please Sansa. Myrish carpet, beautiful curtains, tapestry, he pampered Sansa like no other man could have done. _We will have so much more time together now. A moon’s turn, and we’ll be home. I can’t wait to tell him the news._ The sound of the oak door creaking interrupted their small talk. “I’m sorry ladies, did I disturb you?” Darnette smiled. “No, cousin, we were just talking about how excited we are to be heading home. Jessela has never been to Casterly Rock. I’d wager she will like it. Compared to the north, the west is a paradise.” Tyrion had a strange expression on his face. Sansa had to find out why. “My lord, what is wrong?” Sansa looked to Darnette “ I need to speak with my husband alone. Forgive us, I will send for you on the morrow.” After she left, they were alone. “Sansa.” Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door. “My lord, my lady, supper is ready.” The servant brought them their dinner. Sansa had told them what to serve. She wanted to excite Tyrion with some buttered mushrooms, she knew he loved them. Roasted boar, honeyed duck, lamprey, she went all out. They washed it down with some wine from the Arbor. “So my lord, what did you wish to tell me before we were interrupted?” She was afraid of what he had to tell her, but curious all the same. “Tyrion, you can call me Tyrion you know.” Tyrion always felt the need to tell her that, even after sixteen years of marriage. Sansa, however, knew he loved the courtesies she displayed, so she kept up the act.

    “Okay, what did you wish to tell me?” Tyrion took a swallow of wine, perhaps to allow him time to choose his words. “Not yet Sansa, let us finish our dinner. In truth it isn’t a bad thing, if that is your worry. I know you won’t be happy but there is nothing to fear.” That did nothing to help with her worry but she didn’t want Tyrion to worry about her so she accepted his answer without demur. “So my lady, how was your day?” Sansa explained to Tyrion her time spent at the orphanage. She also detailed other things, boring in truth, but her favorite time of day was spent talking with Tyrion. She couldn’t wait to tell him about the possibility of another child. _It always leads to wicked activities. Seeing me with child seems to inflame our passion._ “How did the meeting at the senate go, my lord?” “It was eventful, and troubling to say the least. I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you why I have to talk to you.” Sansa braced herself for the news. “It looks like we won’t be departing towards Casterly Rock for the immediate future.” _Why?_ “But you said once you had informed the Senate...” Tyrion took a sip of wine. “I won’t lie to you, my lady. War is imminent. In Essos, armies are on the march. Volantis and New Ghis have joined together to form a new empire, and their goal to put it simply is to rule the known world as one great nation, not unlike Aegon did with Westeros.

    Sansa was at a loss of words for a moment. “I fear I won’t be able to resign while this threat looms over us.” “My l… Tyrion, you don’t have to do this. You served the Sunset Republic for sixteen years now. Look at everything you did, all you accomplished. You don’t owe the realm anything. Surely there is someone else who can take on the mantle of Prime Minister.” He only shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “You know me my lady, I can’t abandon Jon and Daenerys when the realm is faced with such a threat. “Please Tyrion, I love you so much. All I want, the only thing I want is to spend time with my family. To raise our children, and to give you more sons and daughters. I can’t do this anymore, you spend so much time serving the republic, what about your family?” Sansa had tears in her eyes. _I’m raving like a little girl right now._ Tyrion wiped the tears away with his thumb, then he took her hand. “It will only be for a little while more. There is something else I must tell you.” _What is it now?_ “I intend on naming our son to the rank and office of Grand Marshal.”

    The shock must have been plain on her face. Tyrion embraced Sansa “I know what you must be thinking, my lady. But Tycos is ready, he was born for this, I know this is what he would want. She was sobbing now. “My brother rode off to war when he was at that age. He never returned to Winterfell. Please Tyrion, I can’t, I just can’t.” Tyrion had tears in his eyes now, she knew he didn’t like to upset her. “I’m sorry Sansa, but he is our best choice if we’re to quell this threat before it grows too large to contain. I do need you to speak with our son however. I don’t want him to become something he is not, and I fear for him sometimes.” Sansa felt she had no choice in the matter. Tyrion was her husband, she had vowed to be a dutiful wife to him. “If that is what you wish, my lord, I will obey.” “I’m not commanding you, I don’t ever want you to feel that way.” Sansa could barely contain her emotion. “But you are, I have no choice in the matter.” She was still crying.

“Sansa, I know why this upsets..” She cut him off. “You don’t, Maester Frenken believes I’m with child, I wanted to surprise you.” _Looks like I just did._ “Truly?” Sansa nodded solemnly. A smile appeared on his face. Tyrion tenderly cupped her cheeks with his hands, massaging her under the eyes. Sansa could only cry and spoke to him “I’m, I’m so happy.” _Not that he could tell._  “Me too, Sansa. I can see why you’re so emotional” He laughed, and without warning he started to kiss her deep. After a moment she returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around him. Every time she informed him they could expect another child, that seemed to stir something in him. He took her hand to lead her to the bed. She knew what he wanted, and so began to unlace his breeches.

During their first night together, the day they married, she had been so very nervous. They had not consummated the marriage that night, but after the war, after she had come to love the man, she had no problem giving herself to him. He had saved her from so many threats. How could she not love the man. She had wanted Loras Tyrell, he wouldn’t have done what Tyrion did for her. Tyrion had given Sansa the option to choose when she was ready, when he could have just took her. Harrold Hardyng had not been so generous with her. After he was killed, and after Petyr Baelish was found guilty of the crimes that lead their families to war, Sansa had realized the best person in her life, the one she could relate to the most, was the man she had in her bed at this moment. She took off his doublet, and the smallclothes while he did the same to her. When they were both undressed, he took her head in his hands and kissed her again.  Sansa had not known other men, she wouldn’t include Hardyng because she was not making love to the man, he just took her. Tyrion wasn’t like that at all.

    When Tyrion and Sansa had renewed their vows as husband and wife, Sansa had been ready, and eager for the bedding. Their first night together, she had never known such happiness. Tyrion wasn’t a young man anymore, but he could still perform in the bedchamber. Sansa felt Tyrion enter her, and she grasped his hair when he did, it was a mixture of pain and pleasure. He moved one of his hands from her back and took hold of her left breast, all the while kissing her. After a few moments, she began to whimper from the pleasure. Whenever she did this, she knew it excited him. She always knew when his climax coming, and that felt even better. She scratched his back, her husband already had enough scars but she couldn’t help herself. Finally, after she had reached her peak, and Tyrion as well, they were motionless in bed for a time. Tyrion put an arm under her back. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Sansa awoke to Jessela entering her chambers. Sansa didn’t need to look to know Tyrion had already woke up. He always woke before her, it was no different today. _I fear he will work himself to death one day._ To her pleasant surprise, he was still in their apartments. The girl was older than Darnette so their activities were not lost on her.  Jessela spoke to her while fetching her clothes off the tiles. “I see your talk went well.” Sansa didn’t mind a little rueful banter, but she was not in a good state. She felt the hint of nausea, and her talk with Tyrion had done nothing to help that. “If you are referring to the fact that I’m undressed then yes, we are husband and wife, laying together comes with marriage.” She smiled at Sansa ruefully “I could hear..” “That’s enough, I know what you could or could not hear. Perhaps I should move your apartments further away if we disturb you.” The girl was taken aback by this. “No..no! It does not disturb me, I’m sorry if I offended you.” Sansa sighed “I’m not offended, it’s just.. I don’t think we will be leaving any time soon.” She explained the situation to Jessela, to Darnette as well when she arrived with the morning’s breakfast.

 _I suppose I will do what I must for my family. I am as much a Lannister as I am a Stark now._ Tyrion was mildly amused by all the talk while they ate. If Jessela mentioning their nocturnal activities embarrassed him, he hid it well. _He’s still a pervert._ Their morning together went a lot smoother than dinner had, and they spent most of the day together. Sansa had nearly forgotten it was her name day. Perhaps that was the reason why Tyrion spent his time with her today. As they walked through the gardens they talked some more. “Sansa, I have something for you. It’s in our chambers.” “Thank you, my lord. I can hardly wait.” She took his hand to show she was sincere. When they returned to their room, she saw the carved lionhead box on the bed. Tyrion nodded to confirm that was the gift. “I had it special made.” When she opened it she found a red gold necklace. Every few links was binded with diamond and pearl, the pendant was a twin headed lion and direwolf, rubies in the eyes of the lion, pearl for the direwolf. She hugged him, and they climbed into bed to sleep but Tyrion embraced  her and they continued the previous night’s activities, Sansa was thirty-two this day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really debated on whether or not I wanted to actually type up depictions of sexual encounters on here. It is kind of hard to pull off without being embarrassing. Imagine E.L James and her 50 Shades of Grey, she must have had a field day with that.


	5. Tycos I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see the characters new to us here. The sons of two of our favorite couples. I really did try to add a mix of Tywin and Jaime with the fictional sons of Tyrion, Sansa. I thought it prudent to have Brandon Targaryen act like Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some of the material from the World of Ice and Fire, a great book if you want to check it out.

    “Again..” The sound of clanking swords, and the clunk of wooden shields mingled in the morning air. Tycos trained every morning, the only way to improve was practice, and so he did. Brandon was with him as always. Aside from being cousins, Brandon felt more like a brother than Tycos’ actual siblings. He loved Catelyn and Jaime to be sure but had hardly seen them compared to Brandon. Catelyn and Jaime were a lot younger and did not participate in the same activities as Tycos. The morning was grey and overcast, but warm. Sandor Clegane barked at the other recruits. “You want to have your skull caved in then go ahead, keep that shield in the dirt.” Tycos didn’t even bother parrying the sword this time, he sidestepped the overhead swing and sent his blunted sword backhanded right into Yorrick Jast’s helm. Brandon was beating Bodrek Swan bloody as well.

    The Hound rasped a command “that’s enough, time to eat. It’s hot out here today, and you boys had the bloody piss beat out of you.” When they entered the Westfall common room, there was barley and onion soup being served with bits of carrot and beef added for good measure. Fighting really worked up the appetite and Tycos was starving. Brandon took a seat next to him. “I hear it’s to be war.” Some of the others at the table joined in, Yorrick added to the conversation. “Meereen, Asapor, both fallen. Talk is we’re to send aid to Volantis.” Laden Sarsfield laughed “I think you mean Pentos, fool. The Volantene have made common cause with New Ghis.” “Either way, looks like we’re being drawn in.” Tycos listened without speaking. _You learn a lot about a man based on what is spoken. Better to listen and learn._

    Brandon spoke next “You shouldn’t be so eager for war, knowing what we know from the past.” The boys always stopped to listen to Brandon, he was always silent and brooding much like his father. So when he spoke, people listened. Jon Targaryen was a legend already and he wasn’t even forty. Tycos had walked the great bridge that spanned the cities of King’s Landing and New Valyria whenever he visited. He liked to look over the beautiful marble statues of the heroes from the Great War. Tycos would always stop and read the epitaph on Jaime’s statue. ‘Jaime Lannister, son of Tywin. Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Saved the life of Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Targaryen, Tyrion Lannister, Sansa Stark, among others in the destruction of King’s Landing, suffering a mortal wound in the defense of justice. We shall never see his like again.’ The words resonated with Tycos. He only hoped he would accomplish a fraction of the deeds the heroes of the Great War had done.

    After they were done with the morning meal, Brandon and Tycos sat listening to their instructor in the classroom. Maester Ghalladan had been at Westfall from the start of the academy and knew much in the ways of war. He was speaking of the flaws the Tall men committed in their wars against the Dothraki. “ The Tall Men viewed Dothraki as undisciplined barbarians and merely as a nuisance. Soon their cities fell one by one. The great city of Sathar fell to Khal Moro, all the while the Sanori kings of Kasath and Gornath fought each other. Six years later Kasath fell to Khal Moro and the Sarnori King of Gornath aided him. Years later they still ignored the threat and Gornath fell to Khal Horro who had killed Khal Moro. the Tall Men realized the threat posed by the Dothraki.  Finally with the Kingdom of Sarnor under assault from dozens of khalasars, they realized their peril. Instead of fighting the Dothraki alone, the Sarnori joined their power together under Mazor Alexi. The last of the High Kings, he fielded an army said to be a quarter of a million strong.

    Some of the other students were not paying close attention to Maester Ghalladan, but Tytos listened intently, he loved history, and the only way to learn from mistakes is to learn the mistakes. “So it was on the battlefield known as the Field of Crows where the Tall Men made their stand, outside the gates of Sarnath. The Khal, Loso ‘The Lame’ lead a Khalasar of eighty thousand screamers against him. The Sarnori had ten thousand light cavalry and six thousand scythed chariots and sent them charging into the horselords. It appeared to work, the Dothraki center broke amidst the chariots slicing into their ranks. The Sarnori, thinking the battle was won, sent their men in pursuit of the men in flight. However, it was only a feint. The Dothraki wheeled around and sent a storm of arrows to rain down on Mazor Alexi’s great army. Two other Khalasars flanked the left and right battles of Alexi’s host and they were surrounded. They were cut down to the last man. The city of Sarnath soon fell and the remaining cities as well. Only Saath survives today, the last of the Tall Men dwell there. All told, there is fewer than twenty thousand people left out of a civilization that once numbered in the millions.” Yorric Jast whispered something into Bodrek Swan’s ear and he laughed. It was apparent they found the tale very droll.

    “So, do does anyone have an explanation for why the Sarnori faltered in the Century of Blood?” Maester Ghalladan looked to the students, some of them started speaking. “They should have took the threat seriously?” one boy asked. The maester nodded “Yes that’s true, but that isn’t why they were defeated on the Field of Crows.” Others added answers they thought suited them. Maester Ghalladan looked to Tycos, without saying a word, he only had a thin smile. Tycos knew he looked to him for the answer. “Mazor Alexi was deceived by a trap. The Dothraki center fell back while their left and right flanks held fast. The Tall Men allowed the adrenaline of victory take hold and blindly fell into said trap. They were crushed by a simple double envelopment.” He nodded “yes, exactly. That’s enough for today. You all are dismissed. Tycos, Brandon, I need to speak with you at once, alone.”

    Soon after everyone had left, it was just Brandon, Tycos, and Ghalladan. “You two are my best students, you know.” Tycos didn’t like to bring it up but he knew it was true. Brandon wasn’t into unseemly gloating either. All Brandon did was glare at the maester. “I have something to tell you boys. _We’re men, but whatever suits him._ “This scroll came last night. It would appear Tycos’ father, the Prime Minister has called upon you both for some task.” Tycos didn’t want to leave Westfall, not yet at least. “For what purpose?” Ghalladan shrugged “if I knew, I’d tell you, I’m sure it’s important if your father has need of you.” It was Brandon who finally spoke. “When must we depart for the city?” “It would appear that they request you boys leave as soon as possible.” If his father needed them, he would do his duty, but he wasn’t happy about the news.

    Brandon looked to Tycos. “We should head to our quarters. Pack our things.” Maester Ghalladan spoke to them fondly. “I don’t know if this is the last I’ll see of you, I’m old and you two were made to perform great deeds. Your presence will certainly be missed.” He extended his hand to them. The both shook his hand, and left the man who had been a teacher to them for so many years. As they walked through the hall, Brandon mentioned some of the things needed to be done. “I’m sure your father has an escort for us. I wonder what they need us for.” Tycos had an idea in his head as to why they were called to New Valyria. He wasn’t sure though, would his father risk war? He didn’t know. He was well aware of the opinion everyone had about him. When Tycos was ten years old his father allowed him to join him at court. He would observe Tyrion speak with petitioners and collect taxes, all the duties a man of his station had to perform.

    Later that evening they were ready to depart. Tycos was tired “we shall rest tonight; we will leave at daybreak.” They laid in their bunks, and they talked a little about the academy, their friends they’d miss. Perhaps they’d see them again, Tycos didn’t really know. He didn’t remember falling asleep. At dawn Tycos woke to the sound of the door creaking open. It was the page, nine year old Dollen Lefford. “What is it Dollen?” “I thought, I... I heard you were leaving, I’m gonna miss you guys. I never had any brothers, I think of you both as the brothers I never had.” At this point Brandon had woke up and getting dressed. “I’ll miss you too, lad.” He was only nine years old so Tycos supposed most of his memories consisted of them. Brandon spoke to the boy gently “we will see each other again, I promise. The boy hugged them both. After he had gone, servants helped them load a horse-drawn wagon. The sky was the color of a bruise, and the castle still slept. Sandor Clegane was in the yard waiting. “The dwarf wants you boys to head to the Golden Tooth before heading to New Valyria.” _That is north of here. Way out of the way. Why does he want that for?_ Brandon knew it too. “Why, Sandor?” He rasped “if I knew, I’d tell you. Better get going.” The Hound was already drinking.

    The day was warm and sunny, the ocean breeze blowing into his hair. They had been traveling for five days now. Them, along with an escort of twenty men. Tycos surveyed the road. “The Golden Tooth is close.” Sure enough it wasn’t long before they seen two riders clad in steel bearing the gold and sky-blue shield of Lefford approaching them on the road. “We spied you on the road, what business do you have at the Golden Tooth?” It was Brandon who replied. “I am Brandon Targaryen, this is Tycos Lannister, son of your liege lord.” Both men exchanged a glance. “Very well, Lady Alysanne has been expecting you, my prince.” He inclined his head towards Tycos. “My lord.” They escorted them all the way to the ancestral seat of House Lefford. The small but formidable castle sat athort the river road on a cliff. They went through the portcullis and passed a few guards. They were led to the great hall and Lady Alysanne sat on the gilded throne on the dais.

    The castellan spoke. “My lady, Prince Brandon Targaryen, and Tycos Lannister.” She was dressed in a gold and black gown. She had a mother of pearl tiara resting on her grey hair. She was still handsome even at her age. “I have no trouble telling the two of you apart. Golden hair, golden armour, lions everywhere with a crimson cloak and the dark haired, dark armoured boy with those lovely rubies. You both look like you’re riding to battle, Robert’s Rebellion is many years past.” Brandon spoke “Perhaps we are riding to battle, my lady.” She laughed at that. “The certainty of youth. Come, sit, your fathers told me you’d be riding this way. I will feast you both before you set out again.” Tycos listened to all she had to say. “That would be most welcome. We would be grateful if you let us stay for the night.” “Of course. We will also send some of our finest knights as an honour guard to see you to the capital. Your men can bed down in the barracks. We have chambers prepared for you.” As they ate, Brandon and Tycos asked if any news reached the Golden Tooth. “I’m afraid we’ve had no word from the Prime Minister or the King regarding the trouble in the east. Only the Daven is summoning levies from all the houses in the Westerlands. I sent a thousand men to Lannisport. At present Daven commands three thousand, more every day.” Tycos and Brandon exchanged a look.

   The servants brought out mutton glazed with mint, salted pork, wheels of cheese, spiced duck. Everyone in their party ate in the hall. Brandon spoke in a low voice to Tycos. “This must be serious. They are readying the fleet in Lannisport, Ser Daven has left Casterly Rock, and they summon us to New Valyria.” _Serious indeed._ “We will know more when we arrive. We can’t delay, we will take the gold road all the way to the capital.” _Why did father want us to come here? Surely not for another twenty men._ “My lady, we depart in the morning.” “Yes.” Tycos decided he would get to the point. “So, as much as we appreciate the hospitality, I have to ask, what is our purpose here? Seems to me there has to be a purpose for this other than feasting us, and sending a few men to escort us.” Lady Alysanne had a smile on her face that made Tycos weary. “Well the escort isn’t only for protecting the Crown Prince and Heir of Casterly Rock. You both have the look of the picturesque knights you might find in a song and I’m sure you can defend yourselves in a fight. These men are escorting my six year old granddaughter, Dalla. I believe you know her brother Dollen. Children of my late son, Dysen.”

    Brandon smiled towards the old lady. “It will be an honour to escort the little lady to the capital.” _Perhaps my father made a deal with Alysanne._ “I see no problem in taking the girl with us, but what will her role be at court?” She had the look of a wolf contemplating a lamb. He didn’t like it. “A betrothal.” “Ah, but to whom?” She smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I know the Warden of the West has other plans for his heir. No, she will wed your brother Jaime.” They finished eating their dinner. “Well you have a decent trek ahead of you. Take care of Dalla on the road to New Valyria. Your bedchambers are prepared for you. Not as fancy as the Rock but you’ll find no reason to complain.” Tycos and Brandon excused themselves from the table, and made their way to the guest chambers. “Well Brandon, I will see you in the morning.” “Wait, Tycos.” He stopped moving. “To whom do you think she is to marry?” Tycos thought for a moment. “Who knows? We will find out when we get there.” To that they bid each other a good night.

    When Tycos arrived into his room he took his armour and under tunic off, along with the rest of his garments. He hated sleeping with clothes on. The room was beautiful. The mantle of the hearth was chiseled with a large shield. The floor was marble tile with Myrish carpet leading to the featherbed. The blankets were blue and gold. The windows made of stained glass and opened outward. The room was well furnished too. He saw a bookshelf, a large oak table. The ceiling was a good three feet above him, and he stood six feet. The chandeliers on both sides of his quarters held blue candles. After he was done admiring the room he climbed into bed. As he lay in bed he started puzzling out who Dalla would wed. _House Lefford might want to shore up their alliances in the Westerlands, or forge stronger bonds in the other regions. Daeron is near to her age. That seems the most likely explanation as to why we have to take her the New Valyria._

  He was asleep within minutes. As he slept, he dreamt of him kneeling in the Royal Palace, his father, King Jon and Queen Daenerys, and the Royal Guard all showering him with shouts of praise. Jon Targaryen put his hands on Tycos’ shoulders and raised him up. They declared him savior of the Sunset Republic. Glory is mine, no longer do I have to live in the shadows of my grandfather. Tycos rose at dawn. I better see if Brandon is awake yet. As he expected, Brandon was awake. “Time to go cousin.” “Okay Tycos, let’s find Dalla.” They found Dalla in the Lord’s Quarters a floor above them and Alysanna helping Dalla pack her things. They departed an hour later, with an escort of one hundred now. Tycos shot one last look at the Westerlands, and they entered the Riverlands.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My aim for this chapter was not only to show similarities between Westfall Academy and the real life equivalent, West Point.


	6. Jon I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion kind of knew in his heart that this meeting would amount to nothing, but felt his job warranted at least a try at peace. We see the arrogance of the great powers of Essos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us see if they give peace a chance.

    Jon was attending court in the Dragon Keep with Daenerys. He was wearing the leather jerkin and wolfskin cloak he had worn for as long as he could remember. Jon was raised as a Stark, revealing the truth about him being a Targaryen didn’t change anything or how he had felt about his foster father, Eddard Stark. Daenerys wore a black and red dress with dragons sewed in the middle. “Begging your pardons, my King and Queen but this problem is ruining my harvest.” This man Harek, came to speak with them was talking about the Dornish raiders who sought to rule themselves again. Harek was a man nigh on fifty, his hair all but gone, his girth enormous. He wore a simple brown linen shirt and breeches. His boots were so worn Jon expected his toes might burst free. Jon listened intently to every detail. No lords had risen to give aid to these brigands but their smallfolk was another matter. “They killed almost all my livestock, set to fire my crops, and killed a few of my fieldhands. It is only by the good graces of House Swan allowing me to seek shelter in Stonehelm that I live.”

 _The do this because of the threat we face in Essos. We are so occupied we have failed to notice our own problems._ Daenerys was clearly upset over the news. “Any man captured in these raids will learn not to twist the dragon’s tail.” Jon was calmer than Daenerys, but no less angry over the matter. Jon addressed Harek with a gloomy voice. “I cannot bring your dead back or replant your fields, but we can talk to the Prime Minister and bring justice to your lands. Harek thanked them and the others came next. Most of the petitioning was minor request. The Blackwoods and Brackens came to speak with them about the same enmities of one another’s houses. Merchants from Duskendale came to talk about port fees, it was all rather unimportant compared to the troubles facing the realm. Finally a man in a red cowl, brown surcoat, and brown leather boots approached them. “Your Grace, Milady. I came to inform you that the delegation from the self-styled Volantene-Ghiscari Empire has arrived an hour ago.” Tyrion had invited him to discuss the situation in Essos, and hopefully prevent all out war. Daenerys waved a hand to the other petitioners signaling they were done for the day. “ Very well Lord Steward. Tell the Prime Minister that Jon and I will be there as soon as possible.” _I doubt this meeting will solve anything, but it’s better than sweeping the issue under the carpet._

Jon and Dany started towards the feast hall of the Dragon Keep. Tyrion thought it would be better to treat the delegates with dignity and hospitality than threats and harsh words. So they would feast the would be conquerors and try to fix the situation. They reached the oak double doors, iron figurehead of a dragon on the doors to either side. They walked in the large hall, a hall big enough for a thousand people. Not so large as the Royal Ballroom, but the blackstone walls were beautiful, there were four hearths in the feast hall to keep it nice and comfortable in winter. Six rows of tables with a larger table set for them in the middle. Tyrion and Sansa sat at the head of the red oak table, and their children Catelyn and Jaime sat together next to them on both sides. Jon and Daenerys took their set at the other end of the twenty foot table. The Lord Steward Benton Waters had followed King and Queen to the feast hall. “Lord Steward, go to the royal apartments to summon the Prince and Princess. We shall introduce them to the delegates as well.”

 _With any luck, we will nip this problem before it spreads._ Most of Essos knew not to molest the Westerosi. Regardless of the Great War, the Sunset Republic was still formidable and no single Free City of Essos could hope to beat them in a war without help. _All of them together though, that is a troubling thought._ The doors opened again, the Lord Steward announced their children. “My King and Queen, Prime Minister and Lady Sansa, the Prince Daeron and Princess Rhaenys.” Their children were dressed richly, as instructed. Tyrion felt it was important to show the Volantene-Ghiscari people their splendor. Daeron was dressed in a black leather doublet with a red dragon in the middle. Rhaenys, who took after her father so much, dressed in a sky blue dress with a grey direwolf sewn in the middle. Tyrion didn’t want anyone to doubt whose blood they belonged, and their status as royals.

These envoys from Essos will see the dragon skulls on the ceiling, the fine marble floors, the statues in each corner. The room spoke to the power of the republic. “Father, when will the food be ready?” Jon didn’t know when or what would be served. “Soon Rhaenys, but we don’t want to start without our guest, it's rude to do so.” Sansa looked like she wanted nothing more than to leave the hall. Jon knew she was upset about Tyrion staying on as Prime Minister. Daenerys could feel the tension too. “So, Sansa how have you been? It has been a while since we had the chance to speak. “I’ve been fine Queen Daenerys, just a little sad that we can’t return home."

    “What about you? How is the pregnancy?” Daenerys and Jon looked fondly at each other for a moment. Daenerys smiled at Sansa. “Nearly halfway through the pregnancy, I can hardly wait. Everything seems to be going well.” “That’s great. My husband and I have something to announce. My lord, do you want to tell them?” They were all looking at Tyrion. “Yes, it would appear that Jon and Daenerys’ are not the only ones expecting a child. Maester Frenken believes Lady Sansa is with child.” Jon smiled at Tyrion and Sansa. “I’m glad for you both. I am glad to have another cousin for my children.” The door opened, the Lord Steward appeared again to announce the honored guest.

“My lords, may I introduce to you, Vigar Gaenon of Volantis, and Drakaz Zhero. Imperial Delegates of the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire.” Benton waved a hand towards the table. “Vigar, Drakaz, this is the Prime Minister Tyrion Lannister, and his wife Sansa Lannister, and the two little ones next to them are their children Jaime and Catelyn Lannister. At the other end here is King Jon Targaryen, and Queen Daenerys Targaryen, and their children Prince Daeron, and Princess Rhaenys.” Tyrion spoke to both men. “Please, have a seat. The food will be here shortly.” Both men sat down in the chairs before them. The room was dimly lit by the two braziers by the door, and the four chandeliers from the rafters.

    They had to wait for what seemed like ages until the food finally arrived. Tyrion set a fine table. There was wine from the Arbor, as well as from Dorne. There was roasted onions and gravy, baked trout, snails in butter. There was black bread and blood sausages. Chicken, roast swan, peppercrab stew, and hard cheese. Drakaz asked if they had honeyed mice or dog which had to be translated by Vigar for Drakaz did not speak the common tongue, but luckily Westeros was not into that kind of delicacy. As a sign of respect, Drakaz and Vigar were served the lord’s portion of the food. Tyrion smiled at the envoys. “Is everything to your liking?” “Yes, my lord.” “Good, let us get to the point of this visit. What do you want of the Sunset Republic.” Both men looked at each other. Vigar spoke up first. “We want fealty from you and your people. You are to pay us tribute each year in slaves, and gold, but we will allow you full autonomy. Your King and Queen are of the blood, we will allow them to serve as Archons to the Empire.” Drakaz said something after Vigar told him what he said to Tyrion. They looked to Vigar for the translation. “Drakaz says the Emperor of Ghis, Grazdan Zikothy, needs a wife and would love this red haired beauty, he will pay you handsomely for her.” Tyrion, Sansa, Jon, and Daenerys were all incredulous. _Tyrion looks ready to kill these men._ “No, tell your emperor we do not sell our wives here in the Sunset Republic, nor do we sell anyone for any reason, people are not property here.”

Vigar translated that and Drakaz seemed disappointed. Vigar continued “well, be that as it is, we require tribute in slaves. We do not care how you provide them. We also wish to build a city here to help us govern our new territory.” _These men would turn us into vassals, no way would any man of Westeros bow to a nation half a world away._ Tyrion knew that as well, and told them so. “Ah, well yes, this does pose a little problem. However noble your intentions, the Sunset Republic will not submit to your imperial rule. We fought, and bled for the people of every creed. If not for us, you might not be here today to rule your burgeoning empire. We owe fealty to no nation. Furthermore, we are a democracy now, we vote on any matter of import among the Senators.” Drakaz said something else, Vigar smiled at that. “When we tell our Emperors your response, they will not be pleased. Drakaz says you would do well to heed our terms. If war comes, have no doubt that your people will be slaves, and your savage Sunset Republic will crumble into ruins.” Sansa could hold her anger back no longer. “We’ve invited you to our home, given you nothing but respect. We have fed you, housed you, and treated with you. Lord husband, I wish for them to be gone. I don’t want my children around such men.” “What kind of woman are you, perhaps Emperor Vathar, and Emperor Zikothy will make a gift of you to me. Ha.” “My wife is a noble woman of the north, she is a wolf, and men are sheep. You both have until dawn to be out of the city. If you are still here by then, you will leave New Valyria without your manhood. I will not suffer such disgraceful behavior.”

“You will rue this day halfman, we will bury you in the rubble of this city, and rule the ashes. As for you Daenerys Stormborn, we have not forgotten the savage attack on our noble cities years ago. We will make a gift of you to Grazdan to do with as he pleases.” Jon got to his feet at once. “You will die, I promise you.” “Jon, calm down. We promised them safe conduct. I have no doubt you will get your chance.” At that Vigar and Drakaz left the room and it was just them and their children again. Jon looked to Tyrion, Sansa, their children, and also to Daenerys and their children. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. Tyrion thought it wise to teach you the ways of ruling and diplomacy.” Daeron tugged at Jon’s doublet. “Father, is it true they want to kill mother?” _They shouldn’t have been here._ “They won’t, we won’t let them. Come now, it is time to retire for the night. Lord Tyrion, Lady Sansa, we will talk on the morrow.” Tyrion called out to him. “Wait Jon, Prince Brandon, and Tycos will be here in the next day or so, Victarion and Asha as well. We will discuss our plans of relieving Pentos and Meereen.” “Very good, Lord Tyrion. We shall speak soon, good night.”

    Jon and his family walked through the halls of the Dragon Keep. Daenerys was obviously in a black mood. “We should land in Essos at once.” Jon looked to their children. “Not in front of them. Wait until they’re in bed.” She began brooding again. Daeron and Rhaenys had no clue what was going on. They would know soon enough. _Soon, the whole realm will be heading off to war._ Jon had always been a fighter, it was something that came natural to him. The past sixteen years had seen that change. There had been no major conflict since the Great War had ended with the Night King, and Cersei’s deaths. Would the realm be itching for a fight? Somehow, Jon didn’t think so, sixteen years or no, the death and destruction was still fresh in the mind of Westeros. Tyrion made sure the realm would never become embroiled in civil war again. There seemed to be a conflict at least every few generations due to the Iron Throne. By turning the realm into a democratic republic, he effectively eliminated the powers monarchs once had over their subjects. After he passed the Codes of the Realm, he allowed each region to vote for who represented them in the Senate. The High Lords who were wardens of each of the Seven Kingdoms were still holders of their ancestral seats but the Sunset Republic was ruled by the Prime Minister and Senate.

They bid their children good night and walked to their own bedchamber in the Royal Apartments. “Dany, we can’t rush this. We need time to gather our resources, our men. We need to arm them, make sure they have proper arms and provisions. The foe is strong.” “And the foe will continue to grow in power if we wait.” Jon sighed “yes, but I didn’t see you sailing to Westeros as soon as you gained an army.” “True, but the War of the Five Kings only helped me the longer it was drawn out. This is different, they grow with each passing day, and we lose potential allies.” _She’s not wrong, but she isn’t being rational._ “Okay, suppose we sail to Essos in a fortnight, how many men can we summon in such short notice? Maybe ten thousand men? And what about naval forces? Perhaps as few as thirty ships? Volantis is not Braavos, that’s true. They have Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh though, meaning they could beat our armada before it even lands in Essos.”

She could see he was right. He didn’t want to argue, but he wasn’t going to agree with her if she was wrong either. “We will talk about it with Tyrion, and the Senate on the morrow. Tyrion is no warrior but he is not ignorant to the ways of war. We will have a war council as well I can imagine. Our generals will best decide how to go about this.” That was the best reassurance he could give her. Jon was no more pleased with allowing their allies to be attacked, and suffering the threat of invasion on their own soil as she was. If they went about this the wrong way, it will only serve to diminish their ability to land a decisive blow and take the initiative. They finally reached their bedchambers. One of their servants made a fire for them in the hearth, something Jon was annoyed by, seeing as he had no need of servants doing everything for him. He could make his own fires. “We should get some rest. The council will start as soon as Tycos and Brandon reach the city. They might even be in King’s Landing right now.”

They were down to their smallclothes and both of them climbed in bed. Daenerys’ belly was really starting to show now. She was halfway through the pregnancy. Jon put a hand on her stomach. It was probably a bad time to be intimate with each other but that never stopped them before. They kissed, and Jon knew he would not find much sleep this night.   

   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes found out quickly that they are running out of alternatives to invading Essos.


	7. Brandon I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope the pace isn't too slow for everyone. I wanna set everything up before I go all out war. Every war in real life starts with planning and logistics. I want everyone to see how the characters get to point b.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The children of our beloved characters arriving in the capital.

Brandon I

 

    They were riding their destriers across the bridge that spanned between King’s Landing and New Valyria, the Bridge of Heroes. Tycos’ father Tyrion had erected the great bridge. The bridge had to be at least fifty feet across, maybe more. Brandon came across the statue of Bran Stark, his namesake. He read the words on the plaque at the foot of the statue. ‘Helped defend the realms of men against the Long Night. Played a crucial role in defeating the army of the dead. Survived the war, whereabouts unknown.’ Brandon had a pretty good idea where Bran Stark or as he called himself ‘The Three-Eyed-Raven’ was, the island known as ‘The God’s Eye’. No man living has been able to breach the lake to get to the God’s Eye, every man that tries ends up being chased off by thousands of angry ravens. Bran definitely had some power, that much was true, but the ability to see into the past?

    They continued along the bridge, they had a retinue of a hundred men now. Each time they stopped at a castle or holdfast, more men flocked to them. As they drew closer to the black walls of New Valyria, Tycos was the one to stop this time, he was reading the epitaph on Jaime’s statue. “So many more could have died, he helped save them. My father helped evacuate the city, but Jaime warned him. He knew his life was forfeit and he knew he had to kill the woman he loved, but he did what needed to be done.” Jaime had stalled the spread of wildfire that engulfed the city, but he couldn’t outright prevent it. Tyrion, and Brandon’s father could only watch helplessly as the city erupted in jade green flames. Thousands died, but thousands lived as well from the bravery of Jaime, Tyrion, and his father.

    “Come on Tycos, our fathers are waiting on us.” Tycos nodded solemnly. When they arrived at the keep that protected the bridge of New Valyria they were approached by four of the Peace Keepers, the men who kept the peace and stopped crime from happening, much like the Gold Cloaks did in years past. There was a large man with a bushy mustache and plumb stomach who must have been the captain that spoke.  “You wish to enter the city?” “Yes. I am Prince Brandon of House Targaryen. This is the Heir of Casterly Rock, Tycos of House Lannister.” He bellowed an order to so the men on the keep battlements could hear him. “OPEN THE GATE.” Brandon and Tycos bowed their heads and they entered along with their retinue when the portcullis was raised.

   Crowds of curious smallfolk stared at them from the second floor windows of inns and brothels. Merchants of every kind of profession stopped shouting their wares and studied the newcomers. The people knew they were important, but the last time Brandon or Tycos were in New Valyria they were young boys dressed in satin and silk. Now they arrived in ornate armour, with soldiers of equal splendor. The Dragon Keep looked imposing from their position, the walls of the keep were fifty feet of fused black dragonstone. They also saw the four drum towers made of black dragonstone as well, if the city were ever attacked, taking it would not be easy for the besieger. They were still a few hours away from the Dragon Keep so they decided to find an inn to stay at. They found a decent inn in the Trade District of the city, it was called Mortimer’s Hammer. The sign hanging from a post depicted a giant brawny man holding a huge warhammer. It was splendid.

    When they entered the inn, everyone stopped speaking at once. _Do they stop because they know us, or do they stop because of our garb?_ A short squat old man with a weathered face and splotchy skin let out a shout from across the packed inn. “Greetings milords, be wantin’ supper do ya, a bit of ale? Come in, come in, take a seat. I suppose you be wantin’ rooms too, we have nice feather beds, not a flea to be found.” Jon had to smile at how shameless the man was regarding rich patrons. “I’ll take a horn of ale.” The old man wiped sweat off his brown wool jerkin. “Right on it milord, what about you my Lord of Lannister?” “A chalice of Arbor Red will suffice.” The serving girl brought them their drinks and Brandon observed the hall. Most inns in the city bustled with life. This inn was no different in that regard. A large hearth with a fire burning depicting a giant grasping a warhammer on the mantle. Four large chandeliers lit the hall, along with torches on their sconces all along the grey walls. Their had to be at least fifty in the commonhall with sixteen of the twenty five tables occupied.

    Tycos was seeing to the payment of their party. What Brandon meant by that was he was using his father’s name as coin. “We need five rooms if you can spare them. A Lannister always pays his debts.” They had coin enough for Brandon and Tycos, but not for the forty men and one highborn maid they picked up along the way. Once the matter was dealt with, they began to drink and regale each other of training at Westfall, and how eager they were to make a name for themselves. Tycos and Brandon were both of few words, even with ale flowing. A young knight, Lorimer, had a harder time containing his excitement. “We’ll be heroes if we march off to war. I’m itching for a fight myself. To show these slavers what the Sunset Republic is all about.” Another man in their party added to the conversation about all the riches of the east.

    After a few hours, more than a few men were drunk, thanks to the generosity of Tycos and Brandon. Brandon stood up and addressed everyone “I’m afraid I must take my leave, we have an important day ahead of us tomorrow. I’d like to keep my head clear.” Tycos was of the same mind and bid their party a good night. Brandon entered his room, not the most fancy place he’d ever stayed at but it would do. The bed was comfortable and the innkeeper was right, not a flea to be found. Brandon made a fire, took off his clothes, and fell asleep.

 Brandon was awakened by the sound of the heavy oak door opening. “Milord, Tycos has asked me to wake you.” It was the old fat innkeeper’s daughter. Brandon wasn’t sure but he thought he remembered one of the soldiers in his retinue getting pretty close to the young girl. _Tyrion has probably summoned the Senate to begin planning for a potential war._ Brandon met Tycos in the hall. “I don’t see the need to disturb the men of our party, Brandon. I’ve summoned Dalla as well. I’ll leave orders with the captain to send the men to the Royal Barracks when they wake.” They broke their fast with some of the men. The food was good and filling and just what they needed to start the day. Black bread, blood sausage, hard cheese, and poached eggs.

    After they finished their meal they saddled their horses and set off towards the Dragon Keep. The city was lively and vast, Brandon knew it would take most of the day to reach the keep and even longer before they could rest. They passed through the Free District of the city where the peoples of Essos made their trade. He could feel the tension between the Westerosi and natives of Essos. Tyrion had a hand in the architecture of the city and it showed in the organization exhibited. From the wharfs to the brothels, everything was neat and beautiful.

    Truth be told, the city was more active than usual. There was a feeling of impending death to come. Brandon glanced at Tycos, and he knew he was not alone in his thinking. “This is not going to be a simple land dispute in Essos. This is the first real threat we’ve faced since ‘The Great War’.” Brandon could only agree with Tycos, the Sunset Republic hadn’t fought a major battle in sixteen years. “Yes, the threat is real. No doubt why our fathers summoned us to the capital. Everywhere men prepare for it.” There was still a few hours of daylight left when they finally reached the black gates of the Dragon Keep. When the guards recognized they were highborn guest they stood aside to let them pass. The Steward met them inside. “My Lords, the Senate meeting has concluded. The Prime Minister does however need to see you in the Minister’s chambers.” They made their way down the hall until they reached the doors of Tyrion’s Chambers.

“Prince Brandon Targaryen, and Heir to Casterly Rock, Tycos Lannister.” In the middle of the chambers was a large oak table. Brandon saw his parents sitting on either side of Tyrion near the head of the table. Jorah Mormont was sitting at the table, so was Daven Lannister. Brandon saw the room was crowded with people he wouldn’t know without seeing their sigils. A woman sat next to a grey beard meaning they had to be Lady Asha and the Grand Admiral Victarion Greyjoy near the other end of the table. The Vice Admiral Paxter Redwyne along with Ulton Hightower sat across the table from the Greyjoys. Brandon and Tycos had no specific seat designated for them but found a spot to sit easy enough. They had a lot to talk about it would seem.

The room was as silent as a crypt for a few moments until Tyrion cleared his throat. “As many of you were informed by the Senate, and your Liege Lords, it looks like the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire is intent on war. Each region has sent us a large portion of their military strength, as well as a sizeable naval force. Each of you here in this room has a role to play in deciding the nature of this conflict. Asha, I am naming you to the office of  Chief Defensive Naval Commander.” “You have my thanks, Prime Minister. The Ironborn won’t fail the Sunset Republic.” Tyrion nodded and continued “Victarion, we might not make it in time but I intend on you relieving Meereen and engaging the enemy fleet. Paxter Redwyne will help supply Pentos and engage any enemy ships in the Narrow Sea.” Paxter Redwyne nodded in agreement. Lord Tyrion looked to the other lords for a moment. “I’m no skilled commander, Daven Lannister and Ulton Hightower are however, they will be in overall command of our defenses by land.”

    Tyrion now looked to Brandon and Tycos. “Tycos will lead our forces in Essos. Brandon, you shall be second in command, and Ser Jorah is to advise you both.” Brandon was in total surprise for a moment. “Prime Minister? We’re still green as summer grass. We’ve never commanded an army before.” “Yes, and I had never commanded when Stannis led the attack on King’s Landing. Everyone starts that way Brandon.” _I know nothing yet._ Brandon had often heard his father mouth those words. “I am ready father.” At least Tycos seemed confident enough.

    Tyrion wasn’t finished yet. “The lords Manderly, Brax, and Tully will make our armies receive the proper rations. Lord Yohn Royce will be charge of making sure every region supplies our men with the proper arms they need. Lord Davos Seaworth is the Quartermaster and will command the baggage train in Essos.” Brandon’s father spoke up next. “I will accompany the Prime Minister to Braavos.” Tycos broke in “why are you heading to Braavos? Especially if the sea lanes contain enemy ships.” “Because we both represent Essos. Jon is the King and I am Prime Minister. We can’t just send a random lord to speak with the Sealord of Braavos, lest they take it as an insult. If we’re to fight such a large host we’ll need allies. We can’t afford any other nations joining with the Volantene Ghiscari armies. Now I leave it to the commanders to come up with a plan of action.” Asha Greyjoy spoke for the defensive naval forces. “We have sixty longships from the Iron Islands that can defend the Sunset Republic with more to spare from the other regions. I’ll make sure the eastern side of Westeros is heavily defended, and I will leave thirty longships on the western side.”

   Daven spoke for the land forces defending the republic. “Seems to me the biggest threat would be to the east. They might force a landing in the Vale of Arryn or the Stormlands but I doubt it. Most likely they will seize the Stepstones as a base of operations and ferry troops over that way. I will send men in force to defend the Stepstones. Perhaps Asha could spare some galleys and longships to stop a landing in the Stepstones as well.” Tyrion looked to Brandon and Tycos next. “And how will you go about the invasion of Essos?” Tycos was looking at the map of Essos and spoke up. “I think we should sail from White Harbour past Lorath and land in the Dothraki Sea. You say we can marshal almost eighty thousand men with more in reserve? How many mounted soldiers? How many archers?” Tyrion gave him the dispositions of men they had. “Very well, we will build the siegecraft we need when we arrive in Essos.”

Ser Jorah responded to that. “We should focus on relieving Pentos and Meereen before we go on the offensive.” “I agree with you, but sometimes the best way to defend something is to attack something else.” Everyone at the table seemed puzzled as to what Tycos was planning but gave him no trouble over the matter. Lord Tyrion, and Brandon’s parents stood up. “Brandon, Tycos, come with us and Jorah to the courtyard.” _What does Lord Tyrion need in the courtyard?_

  They passed the pillars and walking into the courtyard. There were gardens and bushes all around them and the tiled walkway surrounded a giant fountain depicting a girl wielding a slim blade and a dagger. Tyrion stopped. “Ser Jorah is the only knight here among us. He will do you both the honours.” “What do you mean father?” Ser Jorah approached them. “What he means is if you both are to lead men in battle, you both should be knighted.” Brandon was taken aback by that. “But what deeds have we accomplished? Sure we’ve squired but never in battle.” _If my father was never knighted, I shouldn’t receive the same honour._ “You trained at Westfall, you know the art of warfare, and you both show great ability in arms.” Ser Jorah spoke to them gruffly “kneel.” Brandon knelt first. “In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women. Brandon,do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?”

    “I do.” Ser Jorah lifted his sword. “Then rise, Ser Brandon Targaryen.” The process was repeated with Tycos as well. After they were both knighted Brandon saw his father turn around to leave. “Where is my father going?” His mother answered him. “We had a gift made for you both.” A moment later and he saw his father carrying something wrapped in a black cloth. “Here, they say the best swords have names.” Brandon pulled the cloth back and he looked at his father with excitement. “Is this?” “No, but the steel is of the highest quality.” _I am not worthy of any of this._ “The sword with the dragon’s head pummel is yours, the lion’s head is Ser Tycos’.” “Well I thank you both mother and father.” Tycos nodded “yes, we are blessed for all of these honours.” They were all in a state of joy at that moment. Lord Tyrion cleared his throat. “Why don’t you boys get some rest. You have a lot to think about.”

They all bid each other a farewell and departed the courtyard. Brandon made his way to his apartments after saying good night to Tycos. The next day his parents and Tycos’ parents, along with their siblings saw them off their way at the docks of New Valyria. “Father I have to ask, why is Dalla Lefford here?” “She is betrothed to your brother Daeron. Lady Alysanne has promised land and incomes for Daeron in exchange.” Daeron and Dalla were next to each other and seemed to like each other. “Daeron, Rhaenys, it saddens me I didn’t have more time to visit you. I promise I will spend time with you when the war is done. Mother, father, I won’t forget what you’ve done for me, I love you both.” They all hugged him, both he and his siblings had tears in their eyes as well as his parents. Tycos was not one to display his feelings but told his parents and siblings much the same as Brandon had to his. The captain on the ship approached them and they climbed aboard. They set off toward Essos, and war.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plans for war have been set and we will get to action very soon. The first seven chapters have been the calm before the storm.


	8. Sansa II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter about Sansa's feelings regarding Tyrion leaving her. We're gearing up for war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See how Sansa deals with it all.

 

A breath of wind caused Sansa’s silk red and gold dress to flutter. The Godswood was cool, but pleasant. Sansa was making way to the Dragon Keep, but she only made it a few strides when she saw her handmaids. Sansa also saw Septa Tremal with Jaime and Catelyn in tow. The septa had on a pale grey woolen robe, she was past fifty and had a weathered face but she was kind and Sansa loved her as she had once loved Septa Mordane. “Ah, Lady Sansa, we thought we might find you here.” Sansa smiled at that. “Yes Septa Tremal, you know me too well. I was just making my way to the great hall to break my fast with my children. You didn’t have to wait because of me.” Jaime and Catelyn looked at Sansa with an expression of worry and grief. “What troubles you?” Jaime spoke to her first. “When do you think Tycos can return? How long until he defeats the men of Essos?” 

Sansa knew they were worried about their brother but he had to grow up and he was considered a man now. “We can’t be sure, hopefully before the year is out.” The maesters of the Citadel hadn’t sent a raven declaring the summer was at an end but it couldn’t but much longer now. The talk was that the four year summer was nearing an end. “Come children, let us discuss more of this while we take our meal.” “Mother.” The Septa cut in “listen to your mother.” Sansa looked to Darnette and Jessela. “You may join us as well if you wish.” Darnette and Jessela both displayed expressions of happiness and they made their way to the hall. When they entered the great hall they saw Tyrion was at the table, as well as the King and Queen with their children. The servants brought the breakfast feast for which everyone was duly grateful. Today would be the last day before her husband and the King departed for Braavos. 

There was bacon, omelettes mixed with Dornish peppers. Black bread was also served with butter, roasted trout, and cheese. “Sansa, I take it your conversation with our son went well?” Tyrion had told her she would need to speak with him about his harsh attitude. Tyrion feared he held too many of his grandfather’s beliefs. Sansa didn’t want to say anything to Tyrion but she often found that Tyrion acted in the same manner as Tywin had when it came to remorseless behaviour. He only acted that way when it was needed, and perhaps that is how Tycos thought as well. Either way, Sansa wanted to remind Tycos of what happened to his other grandfather Eddard Stark, as well as his uncle Robb Stark and grandmother Catelyn, his sister’s namesake.

She thought back to the night before Tycos had left and what they had spoken about.  _ “I know you think it is better to be respected rather than to be loved but trust me, love will get you a lot farther in the end. If people love you, they will be loyal to you. If you act harshly towards them, when a better option makes itself known, they will not hesitate in exploiting it.” “Mother I don’t want you to think I’m a monster. I don’t execute people for fun, I don’t relish in harsh punishments. I just don’t want to be perceived as someone who can be manipulated, or intimidated. Father has said sometimes you have to invoke fear in your bannerman.”  _ She had reminded him of the Red Wedding.  _ “Your uncle and grandmother were murdered under guest right by Walder Frey. “Yes by Walder Frey.” “By Frey, but orchestrated by your grandfather Tywin.”  _ Her son had reassured her fears were unfounded.  _ “I promise mother, I am not my grandfather, at least not Tywin. I love you, mother.” _

Tyrion awoke her from her daydream. “I’ve stopped all trade from reaching Essos. Any lord caught importing or exporting goods from any all of the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire.” Preventing trade to the Free Cities was as much an act of war as sending men to the continent. Sansa knew this was the last day before Tyrion and Jon sailed towards Braavos by way of White Harbour. Daenerys looked to Jon. “We should wed Brandon to Rhaenys.” Jon shook his head fervently. “We will not commit an act of abomination. Any form of incest in our family from this point forward is not to happen.” Sansa’s husband was one of the most intelligent lords in the realm. He played a part in Jon’s view of keeping the blood pure. “The Targaryen dynasty might have survived had the act of incest ended with Aegon I and his wives. Products of incest are either mad or cruel, at least in the Targaryen line.”

Jon continued “Brandon will wed, and wed a house of strategic importance.” “Very well, whom do you suppose our son marry?” Tyrion had the answer for her. “He won’t wed maid of Westeros. We need to build alliances in Essos because the foe we face is no pushover. They will fight us hard in order to achieve their goals.” Sansa wasn’t sure if she was surprised or not but she felt compelled to ask. “What of our son? Is he to wed?” “He will wed when we can find a mutually beneficial alliance with someone. Just now it is more important that we seize the initiative while we have the chance.

Tyrion and Sansa spent the entire day together and later on that night they lay in bed together, both breathing rapidly from their urgent love making. “I’m.. going… to…. Miss this.” Tyrion stated in between breaths. “I still don’t understand why it has to be you. Resign and have someone else go speak to the Sealord of Braavos.” “What kind of person would I be if I knowingly left the realm without an adequate leader in charge?” “You are the kind of person who has served his people for the better part of twenty years and deserve to live a life of peace with his family.” Sansa knew her words would change nothing. Out of duty Tyrion and Jon both would serve the realm as they always have. 

“And you are certain your family has to stay here?” Tyrion sighed “yes, regardless of how safe a journey Jon and myself have, I still wouldn’t risk endangering you or the children.” All she could do was spend as much time as possible with Tyrion before he departed New Valyria for White Harbour and Braavos. Sansa and Tyrion continued to talk for a while until Sansa drifted off to sleep. Early the next morning she was awakened by Tyrion. She had told him to wake her up before he boarded the ship that would take him to White Harbour. They were getting dressed when Sansa thought of something.  “Tyrion I have a question.” “Yes my lady?” “If Braavos is closer than White Harbour why sail there?” “Paxter Redwyne has part of our fleet in White Harbour, and those are the ships that will escort us to Braavos. I don’t know where Braavos stands when it comes to the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire and do not wish to be captured if for some reason they have joined with our enemy. Part of the fleet is to remain at Pentos and that is too many for them to protect us sufficiently enough.”

They decided to take their morning meal in the Royal Apartments. The feast hall was much smaller and more intimate than the Great Hall. Their children joined them for the last meal they would have together as a family for the foreseen future. Tyrion addressed Jaime and Catelyn “Jaime, you take care of your sister and mother while I’m gone. Catelyn, you grow more beautiful everyday, I hope you keep up on your harp playing.” Jaime said he would do everything he could to make Tyrion proud, Catelyn as well. They finished their breakfast and Sansa knew it was time to say goodbye.

Tyrion and Jon were on the same pier that Brandon and Tycos had been on when they sailed towards Essos. Both Jon and Tyrion were saying their farewells to their children. Next Jon and Daenerys embraced each other and Tyrion embraced Sansa in turn. “I promise you, we will be safe. Jon and I seem to have a knack for survival.” She kissed him. “Come back to me, my lord.” “I will.” Sansa watched as they boarded the ship. They watched until the ship was out of sight. “Come children, we have to prepare.” Sansa was planning on her family returning to Casterly Rock. They would have to wait until after the war and Tyrion’s return before visiting Winterfell.

When they returned to the Dragon Keep Sansa called on her handmaids to help her. “My lady, you needed our assistance?” “Yes Darnette, we are to depart for Casterly Rock. I want you both to pack our things. My children as well. You both should pack too after we’re done here.” Jessela was not of the Westerlands and probably missed her home. If she wanted to return to the North she was more than welcome to but the girl was devoted to her. Sansa had a large oak chest filled with her finest clothes. She was bringing some of her jewels as well but left most of it here. Nobody would steal them from her she was certain. “We will need some help with this, go find the Steward, Darnette.” The girl left her quarters and it was just Sansa and her children.

They spoke with each other for a while until the door opened and Podrick was the one who entered. Sansa was surprised he had stayed in New Valyria. “Ser Podrick, I thought for sure you would have went with my husband.” “He asked me to watch over you and your children Lady Sansa.” She shouldn’t have been surprised. “You need help with your things? I have my squire with me.” The boy with Podrick had to be around twelve, he had the look of the Westerlands about him. Podrick saw her stare. “This is Manfred Payne, my cousin.” “Ah, I knew he looked familiar. We have a ship on the docks called the Summer Tide, make sure our things make it to the ship.” Once they were done Sansa took her children down the hall to their rooms. “I will see you first thing in the morning, I wanted us to sail around Dorne and into the Sunset Sea, I think you both will enjoy that better than traveling by carriage. I love you both very much, good night.” Jaime and Catelyn both told her the same and closed their bedchamber doors. Sansa  thought about all she had been through lately and realized she was tired. She made her way back to her room and fell asleep.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how I feel both Tyrion and Sansa would have reacted
> 
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	9. Asha I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war is on now. Let us see how it starts.

    They had the wind. That was a good thing for the ships of the greenlands but Ironborn didn’t need wind when they had oarsman. Asha was sailing with Victarion south towards the Sea of Dorne and the Stepstones and then she would sail to the Iron Islands to marshal whatever longships she had stationed there. Victarion would take sail the Summer Sea to ferry their land forces to Essos and afterwards he would assault the Ghiscari cities in the Gulf of Grief to help supply Meereen. It was a plan that the new made knight Tycos, and her uncle Victarion had refined during their voyage. Ser Tycos was on deck talking with Victarion now, Ser Brandon was with them, as was Ser Jorah. Jorah was not very happy about going against Tyrion’s wishes. “Your father said to land in the disputed lands.” “He also put me in overall command, and I say the Dothraki Sea.” Brandon seemed to be on the same side. “What is there in the Dothraki Sea that is worth adding more leagues between us and Pentos?”

    Tycos had an answer for everything. “Paxter Redwyne is going to supply Pentos for the time being, the city won’t fall regardless of the time it takes. I have a plan, and I need you both on my side.” Brandon put a hand on Tycos’ shoulder. “I am on your side, you know that. I just don’t understand.” “You will understand, Victarion, we land thirty leagues west of Volantis. Surely if there are enemy ships the Iron Fleet will deal with them easily enough.” Victarion was the most able naval commander in Westeros, perhaps the world. “Aye, if any ship dares try me, they will rue it.”

    Asha had her own orders. There had been queer reports lately of longships spotted near the Lonely Light. _Could it be him? No he’s dead._ Euron Greyjoy had been in Blackwater Bay when Asha, Theon, and Victarion attacked him and the bitch Queen Cersei. The so called Royal Fleet under his command was utterly destroyed. They never found his body but men drown and are never seen again. Victarion had mentioned it to her yesterday. He seemed to have the opinion that Euron was still alive. They were within sight of the Stepstones and were to land some of Daven’s forces to control the main landing point for any invading enemies. Ulton Hightower was already on the largest island awaiting them.

   Once they landed ashore, Asha, Victarion, Ser Brandon, Ser Jorah, Ser Davos and Ser Tycos all made their way towards the new keep, Sentinel Strand. Tyrion thought it prudent to build such a defensive base seeing as Westeros was nearly invaded via the Stepstones during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. They would leave around three thousand men on the islands, more than enough. The portcullis was already up when they rode up to the gate on their horses. Two guards approached them. A White tower with a flame was on the cloth covering their armour. “Come, Lord Ulton is waiting in the commonhall. The keep was nothing fancy, the official banner of the Sunset Republic was flying above Lord Ulton Hightower’s own banner, it was a giant heraldic banner with a orange-red sun setting on a deep blue field. The stone walls had none of the signs older castles display showing their age. There were four towers forty feet high overlooking the walls. The courtyard was large enough for sixty men to train. The armoury and barracks large enough to accommodate five hundred men. They stabled their horses and entered the keep.

    They entered the common room to see Lord Ulton feasting some of his men. He had a grieved expression on his face.  “Please, sit. I have news for you.” They took their seats and the servants brought them some ale to go with their dinner. Lord Ulton had made sure to indulge them with roast quail, lamb roasted with mint, sweet tarts, baked apples, northern cod, and brown bread. Ser Brandon asked what troubled Lord Ulton. “What news do you have for us?”

    Lord Ulton cleared his throat and looked to Asha and Victarion. “I fear the Iron Islands are under attack. We’re not sure how true this is but they say Euron Greyjoy is behind the attack.” _So my fears were justified._ “If this is true then I must sail towards Pike immediately.” Ulton Hightower nodded. “The fighting is fierce but we are outnumbered. We are not sure how many ships he has but the reports claim he has as many as one hundred. Not just longships either, hulks, dromons as well.” Tycos cut in. “If he has such warships then he was aided by the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire. There is no other explanation for it, he must have made a pact with them. I’d say the promised him the reward of land and gold.” Victarion was silent but the look on his face showed clearly that he was angry.

   _If this is Euron and if he takes the Iron Islands, the western side of the Sunset Republic will be vulnerable to invasion._ Hardly any of their food was touched. They had lost their appetite due to the new threat they face. Asha felt compelled to leave at once. “I beg leave Ser Tycos, let me sail to the Iron Islands.” “On the morrow. We need rest tonight.” “But.” He cut her off. “Nine more hours won’t decide the fate of the Iron Islands, but we can draw up a new plan for these developments.” Ever formal, Victarion broke his silence. “What do you have in mind, Field Marshal?” “How many ships do you have in your fleet Grand Admiral?” “At present I have two hundred counting the Iron Fleet and ships from the other regions. If the Vice Admiral sent some ships we’d have more, possibly three hundred.” Ser Tycos had a stern expression on his face. Ser Jorah and Prince Brandon noticed as well, Brandon took the bait. “What do you have in mind?”

    “Grand Admiral Victarion, do you have someone in your service you trust to lead the fleet to the Gulf of Grief?” “Aye, Nute the Barber won’t let you down. He’s the next best sailor in my fleet next to me. I trust Theon as well if you think Rodrik the Reader can handle losing him.” “I’ll send for Theon, I’m sure my father can find a replacement for Harlaw. Very well, I’m sending you with fifty ships to aid Asha until the threat is dealt with. I will need the rest of your fleet to carry my troops and supplies. It will probably be a fortnight before we land at the designated area.” Jorah could hold his silence no longer. “Is that wise? I agree with sending aid but to lose the best captain we have? Are you sure about this?”

    “I’m sure, Ser Jorah.” Asha was relieved. “Thank you, my uncle won’t let you down and will take up his position with the main fleet afterwards.” With some of their fears finally put to rest they began to eat their cold supper. Asha surveyed the table and noted the look on Ser Jorah Mormont’s face, Ser Davos Seaworth was at the table as well but she didn’t know if he approved or not with Tyrion’s son going with a different plan than agreed upon. “I know I am just your advisor but I think this decision was a bit rash. What if we need those ships?” _The boy looks ready to skin the poor old bear._ “When Daenerys needed advice, you served her well. Was there ever a time where you disagreed with her on something?” “Why yes, when we were in Astapor. Another time in Qarth we didn’t see eye to eye. When she was Khaleesi we had differing views on the Lamb Men. All of those times she was right and I was wrong, I see your point. That being said there were times when she didn’t listen and wished she had.” “Well Ser Jorah, we shall see how this disagreement plays out. I won’t change my mind.”

  The sun had set by the time they finished their meals. Lord Ulton offered them an honoured place in the guest quarters. Specially built for the nobles of the realm, they were fit for any high born lord or lady. “I have seen to all your chambers, you will find a fire in every hearth and fresh rushes and the beds have clean sheets and quilts. I..” Before he could finish speaking the captain of his guard entered the hall. “Lord Hightower, a ship has just docked and this lady claims to know most of you. May I present Lady…” He was cut off by the supposed highborn lady. “I’ve come to fight.” Asha knew the young girl from the North, but it was Ser Jorah who revealed her identity. “Lady Lyanna, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on Bear Island?” “Our King has called upon every lord to send aid for the good of the Sunset Republic. I promised to serve him and just now it seems to me his son is in need of aid. I will serve him by serving his son Brandon.” Jorah was incredulous. “Who rules Bear Island?” The fiery tempered young lady had the answer. “My son Edric rules in my place.” “Edric is just a boy of eight.”

    That didn’t seem to bother Lyanna one bit. She was only a child when she ruled Bear Island if Asha recalled correctly. “My son is capable of ruling Bear Island, he is of the North. In the North children grow up faster than anywhere else in the realm.” Ser Jorah didn’t seem to have a rebuke for the young lady but Lord Ulton chimed in. “Well, I believe we have room here for Lady Mormont. If you’d please follow us to the second floor of the keep I’m sure we can find proper quarters for you.” Lyanna seemed satisfied with that and they left the common room to get some rest. _Tomorrow Euron, tomorrow we are coming for you._ When Asha reached her bedchamber she took off her leather jerkin and smallclothes. She thought about Tristifer Botley, the boy who had once been infatuated with her was gone. Not so long ago he was in love with her but she couldn’t return the favor. Now he was lord of Lordsport and married to Annewell Botley. She was a woman of the greenlands, daughter of Garlan Tyrell. She was much younger than Tris and from what Asha had seen was a lovely thing. They had two children already in the three years they had been married. _I hope no harm has come to him and his family. He saved me, aye, more than once._ The room was warm due to the fire made by the servants. Asha found the room to be too hot and stuffy so she opened the shutters and let some cool night air in. _Much better._ She climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep.

   The sky was a shade of purple with the sun starting to peek out when Asha woke up. She intended on sailing as quickly as possible and decided she’d skip the morning meal. She knew Victarion would do the same. Brandon and Tycos would feed the men before the set sail for Essos but their situation was not as urgent as hers. They might find enemy ships in their path but certainly not enough to stop them from landing troops ashore. Asha found a serving man in the hall as she made her way to the stables. “Has my uncle Victarion already boarded his ship?” “I don’t know milady.” She figured he wouldn’t but had to ask. She entered the common room to see on the off chance that he might have ate a meal before departing. Asha saw Ser Davos eating crab stew. He was the only face she knew in the hall. “Ser Davos, do you know if my uncle has boarded the Iron Victory?” “Aye Lady Asha, I believe he awaits you on his flagship.”

    “Thank you Ser Davos, have a safe journey and if you engage enemy ships then kill the whoresons.” “Aye, you do the same. Farewell.” She rushed out to the yard to find her spotted courser all ready and saddled by the stable boy. “Here you go lad.” She tossed him a silver stag. Asha leaped onto her horse and rode out of the gates like a dragon was on her tail. Within a matter of minutes she had reached the docks and was walking up the gangplank onto the Iron Victory. “Ah, I thought you might be leaving without me uncle.” “And do your fighting for you? Seems to me you were given charge of the coastal defenses.” Asha knew he was jesting.

    “We are half a fortnight’s sail to the Iron Islands. We have no other news other than they are under attack. If the islands fall, the Westerlands, the Reach, and the North are under strength at sea. Uncle, we have to warn them.” “There’s no need Asha, Lord Ulton warned them before we even arrived at Sentinel Strand.” That was good. If the Sunset Republic was forewarned about Euron’s attack he would have a harder time raiding their coast. _I hope it doesn’t come to that._ The Iron Islands had a formidable defense of ships guarding it. Even if Euron had as many ships as they claimed, he had no hope of holding the Iron Islands once Asha and Victarion attacked him. He would be caught between the hammer and the anvil and finally they would have him.

    After a few days of heat off the coast of Dorne they encountered a storm and it took another two days for all of their fleet to regroup. The Drowned God must have been on their side because they had lost none of their ships. Two men had died from the dispatches they received. One man fell out of his crow’s nest during the storm and another man was killed in a fight over Cyvasse. Soon there would be three men dead Asha assumed after the killer was punished. The water was growing darker and the air cooler as they sailed north west. The sky was growing dark as Victarion and Asha gazed towards the horizon. “Soon Asha, we’re almost home. Only a few more days now. Go, rest up Asha.” Victarion still treated her like a child sometimes even though she was past forty now. Although, Asha still had a head of dark brown hair. Victarion’s hair was a mix of salt and pepper and he had the same widow’s peak she had with the same nose. “Aye, wake me at first light.”

  Asha was just about to take off her smallclothes when she heard a loud crash of wood cracking and splintering in the distance. She hurried and put on her leather armour and ran out onto the deck of the Iron Victory. Victarion was shouting orders to the men “Send signals to the other ships. Form lines, archers to your marks. Asha what are you standing there for? Make yourself useful.” Asha was not new to battle, she took charge immediately. “You men. Get these scorpions ready.” She saw a boy of twelve. “You and the other boys grab the scorpion bolts, and arrows from the hull. They’ll be upon us soon.” There were a few ships on fire but it was hard to tell whether they were part of her fleet or Euron’s. _Well, I was eager to engage Euron. Looks like I got my wish._ Soon all the ships in the Sunset Republic’s fleet were in battle formation. There were five lines of battle sailing directly into Euron’s ships.

    She stood next to Victarion and waited. “I don’t see his flagship.” The ship Victarion spoke of was Silence. When Daenerys burned the original Silence they thought Euron might have gone down with the ship or even burned alive. Without a body however, it was difficult to say if he had died. His flagship was destroyed though, that much was certain. _Surely a ship like that he would have rebuilt._ The sky was starless, and the water black as pitch so it was hard to see the enemy sails but with half a dozen ships afire and flights of fire arrows gleaming across the sky they were easier to make out. “Uncle, those ships have the same dark red hulls as before. The device on the sails, what is that?” Victarion looked grim. “It’s his smiling eye. Blood red on black.” As they sailed closer to the enemy Asha gave the order to fire. “Knock...draw….hold..” They were almost in range, and finally “Loose.” And in an instant the sky was filled with dozens of flaming streaks. The enemy sails gave the appearance of giant candles. Many of their own fleet didn’t have sails unfurled save for some of the warships with them. Euron’s fleet didn’t consist of as many longships as the Iron Fleet so they had the advantage in that regard.

    Victarion was bellowing orders when they spied an enemy ship only ten yards away. Asha and Victarion both gave the order. “Turn the ship.” The enemy ship reacted slower than the Iron Victory but soon both ships were firing arrows at each other. One of the archers next to Asha took a flaming arrow to the eye. He was screaming as he fell overboard. Oarsmen were working hard to reach the enemy and their prey was trying to get away. Right when it seemed like the enemy ship was safe Victarion shouted. “Oarsmen on the portside… cease rowing.” The ship made a sharp turn very quickly. “Oarsmen on the portside start rowing.” Within half a heart beat the bow of the ship crashed into the enemy longship and split the hull in two. The sound of screams could be heard as the dark sea swallowed the sinking ship.

   The sea now looked like a graveyard with flaming headstones all around them. A six foot bolt crashed into their ship and a boy fell over the rail. Asha and Victarion both had their weapons out ready to face any foe that boarded the ship. They didn’t have to wait long, an enemy ship latched onto the Iron Victory and men starting pouring onto the deck of their ship. Victarion caught the first man who landed on deck with a vicious axe blow to the skull taking half his head with it. Asha’s dirk found a young man’s throat and her axe took off the arm of a man who tried to cut her head off. She finished him off by shoving her dirk under his chin. He fell down face first. Another man managed to get past Victarion but it was only because he was a human candle flailing around wildly. He ran right past her and over the portside rail into the sea to drown.

    Soon the crew of the Iron Victory was boarding the enemy ship. Asha blocked a huge double-headed war axe with both her weapons. Before she had time to react Victarion cut his leg off below the knee and buried his axe in the man’s heart. “Thanks uncle.” He only grunted at her and was gone in an instant. Asha ran up the steps to the stern and found the enemy captain holding off two of her crew. It wasn’t honourable but she threw her axe at him before he could kill one of her own men. She didn’t know if it was a glancing blow until she saw him turn around slowly. His eyes were two giant eggs as he dropped to his knees and fell forward. Asha retrieved the axe. The deck of the ship was slick with blood and guts but she knew they had the ship.

    Victarion was staring at the destruction. “Asha, get out of here while you can. The battle is over. I fell for another trap, just like I did with Stannis Baratheon.” “Uncle, come with me. We can make for Lannisport.” He smiled at her. “I’ll help cover your escape. You are the ruler of the Iron Islands. I am just an old man who has lived too long.” She couldn’t leave him like this. “Euron won’t kill me, go Asha.” She was angry, and grief stricken. “I will come back for you, I promise.” She boarded the Iron Victory. Most of the crew was still alive. “I love you Victarion. What is dead may never die.” He smiled. “But rises.. Harder…. And stronger..” The Iron Victory bent their oars in retreat along with a dozen other ships when she gave the order. After a few moments she saw the ship, Silence. Victarion boarded her and she could see someone through the Myrish spyglass she was using. _I see the blue lipped old bastard but who is that?_ She saw a younger man standing next to Euron holding two handed axe. Victarion was on his knees when she saw the younger man swing the axe. “No…. Victarion.” She saw them place his head on the figurehead of the ship. _I swear to you Victarion, you shall be avenged._ She could still see the fires in the sky when they landed in Lannisport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion wasn't the only one wanting to seize the initiative. Looks like the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire made a deal Euron Greyjoy. I won't spoil the show for those who watch it but this story will be much different to what we saw in the final season.
> 
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	10. Tyrion II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion Lannister, Jon Targaryen, along with Varys and Paxter Redwyne learn of the news about Asha and Victarion's clash with Euron. The meet with their allies in Pentos, and look to form a new alliance in Braavos.

    “Vice Admiral, we have spotted twenty warships just off the coast near Pentos. They have a small but tight blockade of the city.” Tyrion had expected nothing less. Jon, his King, stood next to him looking through a spyglass. “I see them.” Paxter Redwyne started giving men orders. “We have them almost two to one, we’ll chase them off or destroy them. Either way they will have nowhere to flee to once we’re upon them.” _White Harbour is an enemy and Braavos won’t side with slavers. We have them indeed._ Tyrion was thankful he wasn’t with Victarion. He wouldn’t lead the fleet from the rear. He would lead his ship in the first line of battle. As they approached the enemy fleet, scorpion bolts rained from the sky piercing the enemy ships. As soon as they engaged the mixed force of enemy ships Tyrion asked for the Myrish lens tube. “I see our friends from Pentos have decided to join us.

    As the ships drew closer, arrows started to fly. Jon had his hand on the hilt of his sword but it was a fruitless gesture. The flagship would not even reach the enemy until the battle was over. If you could even call it a battle. One of the petty officers approached them after an hour of fighting. He greeted them all one by one. “Your Grace, Prime Minister, Vice Admiral, the day is ours.” Paxter Redwyne wanted reports. “And our losses?” “We lost four ships in the fighting. By our count we have two hundred and thirty six dead, the Volantene-Ghiscari lost six hundred or more. However, we sank or destroyed nine ships, captured twelve, and nine got away. Some of those that fled were damaged and listing.”

    Lord Redwyne nodded. The petty officer wasn’t done yet. “Shall we pursue?” Lord Redwyne shook his head. “No, they have no safe haven north of here. The men might get away but their ships will be no threat to us now.” He addressed Tyrion and Jon. “Should we make for port at Pentos?” _We should see how they are doing in the city and if we land there their morale might get a boost._ “Sure, I would like to get the measure of the city.” The sun was at its zenith by the time the docked. Tyrion recognized Illyrio Mopatis and was shocked to see Lord Varys standing next to him. The other man dressed in purple silk and servants all around him must have been the Prince of Pentos.

    “Lord Varys?” The eunuch looked as if he knew they were coming. “Lord Tyrion, and your grace. So good to see you in these troubled times. I’m afraid I carry grave news.” Jon cut in “we will talk about it once we settle in.” “As you wish, your grace.” Tyrion, Jon, and Lord Redwyne approached the Prince. Illyrio introduced him to everyone. “My lords, I have the honour of introducing Semaro Tempatis.” The fat Prince of Pentos looked as if he could be related to Illyrio but Tyrion didn’t see the point in reminding them of that. Tyrion wasn’t at all discouraged by what he seen. The city looked to be in a good state despite the siege that had been going for a few moons. There was still food in the marketplace and the city was bustling. With the supplies from the Sunset Republic, the siege was now useless. “Take us to the walls.” “As you wish, King Jon.” Jon was always serious and never had time for idle talk it seemed.

    The reached the city walls and found eunuch soldiers with spiked hats lined up guarding the walls. Jon, Tyrion, and the rest of their party climbed the steps up to the tops of the walls. “Wow.” That was enough explanation for everyone who had eyes. Outside the walls was tents, men, and horses as far as the eye could see. Jon wasn’t as speechless as Tyrion or Lord Redwyne. “There has to be at least one hundred thousand men here.” Prince Semaro didn’t argue that with him but was troubled. “They started building siege engines, soon they will storm the city now that they know they can’t starve us out.” Varys interrupted them. “I have news that might interest you when we reach Illyrio’s Palace.” _We’d better hear him out before he worries himself to death._ “Very well, take us there Illyrio. Remember the last time I was here Illyrio? I’d like some of those delicious mushrooms again, and without poison.” In truth, Illyrio didn’t try to poison him but Tyrion had no doubt he would have if he saw more gain in it for him.

    They arrived at Illyrio’s Manse near dusk and the servants already had food prepared for them. The servants were little more than slaves here even though slavery was forbidden in Pentos. These servants lived with their employers and were fed and clothed by them, thus the money they earned didn’t cover the cost of living for them meaning they had to work off their debt with service to their employer. It was all very clever on the magister’s part. Tyrion looked to Varys who was obviously eager to share the news. “We received word from my little bird that the Iron Islands were taken by Euron Greyjoy as part of a deal he struck with the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire. Victarion had landed in the Stepstones with Asha Greyjoy and with the permission of Ser Tycos, sailed around Dorne and into the Sunset Sea. There they were ambushed by Euron Greyjoy and his fleet scattered our forces. Asha managed to escape but Victarion was not so fortunate.” There was a shocked silence for a moment.

    Jon was as angry as Tyrion ever seen.”That’s not all. Lady Sansa and your children are sailing to Lannisport. I fear they may be as far as the southern coast of Dorne.” Tyrion was dumbfounded by this turn of events. “Why would she sail to Lannisport? She could arrive at Casterly Rock much faster taking the Gold Road in a comfortable wheelhouse.” Varys shrugged. “I do believe she did this for the children and leisure. She felt they might appreciate the voyage more than riding for the west.” “Either way she could into a trap. We need to send word to Ser Daven and augment the squadron of ships escorting her. How many ships sail with her?” “They’re twenty strong. Lady Sansa also recalled her sworn shield to protect her and the children. Brienne of Tarth.” Jon was worried about the vulnerability of the western coast of Westeros. “We need to see to our coastal defenses. If the Iron Islands have fallen, Fair Isle, the Shield Islands, the Stony Shore, and the Cape of Eagles. All of these places are targets.” Varys had a thin smile on his face. “Well, some of the Iron Islands still hold out against Euron Greyjoy and his allies. Pike, Great Wyk, and Harlaw. He will need to gain control of all the islands before he can strike Westeros Proper.” _He is right. He could be caught between two fleets if he isn’t careful._

Tyrion didn’t see how he’d be of any help to Sansa at the moment. He would have no choice but to continue on to Braavos with Jon. She would be safe, the Sunset Republic still had a formidable naval presence in the west. Illyrio addressed the items Tyrion had brought with him. “Lord Tyrion, you have two Valyrian Steel swords. Cherry Wood scabbards, lion’s head pommel, and a dragon’s head pommel that you want me to give Prince Brandon and your son?” “Yes, their reward for lifting the siege should they succeed. I feel it will boost their egos and motivate them to success.”

    Illyrio offered to allow Jon and Tyrion bedchambers to sleep in for the night but both Jon and Tyrion declined politely. They had a mission and they couldn’t delay the voyage, not even for a day. _It might be worth it to gage the Tattered Prince’s son though._ Tyrion had no doubt that he would meet with them, and probably meet for the same reasons Tyrion wanted to. Once, Tyrion had met the Tattered Prince. He had to admit he kind of liked him, vain and condescending as he was, he had a dark attitude. _Now his son leads them._ Tyrion stopped Illyrio before he could leave the hall. “You know what? I think we might take you up on your offer to stay in your Manse.” Jon was perplexed “Tyrion? I thought it was urgent we make our way to Braavos as quickly as possible.” Illyrio inclined his head “of course, we shall accommodate the King and Prime Minister.” Tyrion explained his reasons to Jon. “I want to parley with the enemy, gage this boy, Salam.”

    “Our sons will be leading an army this way soon. What purpose would meeting the captain of the Windblown?” _I don’t know why I feel the need to meet him either._ “What if we can convince him our cause is the winning cause?” Jon was not convinced, neither was Illyrio for that matter. Tyrion was moved by their sentiment. “Nevermind then, I will leave it to our sons. Illyrio, thank the Prince of Pentos for his service, it seems we have a ship to catch.” Varys, and Paxter Redwyne had left the Manse hours ago so Tyrion and Jon made their way to Redwyne’s flagship. Once Tyrion and Jon were on the ship Varys approached them wearing a tan robe made of silk as always. Tyrion could see the powder on his face, and he had a flowery fragrance about him. “Prime Minister, my King. I’m afraid I carry grave news.” Tyrion pressed his thumb into his temple. “What is it this time?” “We had word that Victarion was captured by the enemy under Euron Greyjoy. Asha has sent word that he was in fact, beheaded on Euron’s orders.” _He could have used him as a hostage, what a fool._

    Now it would seem that the Sunset Republic needed a new Grand Admiral. Tyrion summoned Paxter Redwyne from his cabin. “Prime Minister, we should arrive in White Harbour soon, after that it will be half a fortnight until we reach Braavos.” _Good._ “That is not why I summoned you. Victarion Greyjoy is dead. We need a new Grand Admiral. I would name you to that post. I will send word to New Valyria that I want Theon Greyjoy as Vice Admiral. You will sail a squadron of ships to join the fleet that was Victarion’s. They may be near Volantis by now. I want Theon to command the fleet here in the Narrow Sea.” Paxter Redwyne didn’t quite know how to take this turn of events. _I see hunger in those eyes._ “You honour me, my lord. I won’t fail you. I will destroy the enemy fleet in the Gulf of Grief and relieve Meereen.”

    “Very well, Grand Admiral. You’re dismissed for the evening.” Tyrion walked the deck of the ship looking for Jon, he found him staring out at sea on the port side of the ship. Varys had already set sail for Westeros. He had been given the orders Tyrion set into motion. Asha Greyjoy was to link up with Sansa near the Sea of Dorne and Sansa along with their children would land near Sunspear. Princess Arianne was to add to their fleet and once Sansa and the children were out of harm’s way, Asha was to retake any of the Iron Islands under Volantene-Ghiscari occupation. Euron had surprised them; he defeated them in the Sunset Sea, but his fleet couldn’t match the combined might of the Sunset Republic, not with the main fleet of Westeros preventing any of the Free Cities, Volantis, or Ghis from reinforcing him.

    Jon looked down at Tyrion. “You don’t seem troubled that Sansa or the children are sailing towards danger.” “Euron is going to be occupied trying to take the rest of the Iron Islands, my wife and children will be safe. I trust you know the plans I made with Paxter Redwyne.” “I heard.” Jon and Tyrion walked below deck, it was dark and there were more stars than Tyrion could count in the sky. “I’m going to rest, Tyrion. You should too, we’ve had a long journey.” They bid each other a good night. The next few days were uneventful. When they arrived in White Harbour, Lord Manderly feasted them and augmented their fleet with ships of his own. After a day in White Harbour, Paxter Redwyne set sail with the bulk of the fleet to link up with Tycos and Brandon. Finally, after almost a moon’s turn at sea, Tyrion spied the Titan of Braavos in the early morning fog. They only had a few ships escorting them but that was not an issue with Tyrion. Theon had graciously accepted Tyrion’s offer as the new Vice Admiral and had already made it to Pentos. The Windblown and Dothraki would have no hope in starving out Pentos now. The best part was the one leading the Windblown, Salam, had no clue they even defeated the Volantene-Ghiscari blockade.

    The bronze statue of Braavos had beacon fires lit where a man’s eyes would be and Tyrion could see the green hemp that passed as hair on the statue. Jon stared in wonder at the Titan, and the purple fleet of ships guarding Braavos. “Your first time here, Jon?” “Yes, the city is magnificent. Sam told me of Braavos when I sent him from the Wall to become a maester. He said for the most part there were more canals than streets in Braavos.” _Fastest way to travel in Braavos is by raft or pole boat._ In normal circumstances, any ship not of Braavos would dock in the Ragman’s Harbour but after the Arsenal inspected their ships they were given a special accord to sail into the Purple Harbour. Jon, Tyrion, Paxter Redwyne, and twenty guards made their way to the Sealord’s Palace via the pleasure barge. The palace was located on a small island north of the Moon Pool that

    They arrived in the main hall of the palace, eight braziers were lit and the hall was nice and warm. On a black oil stone chair sat the Sealord Ferrego Antaryon, guarded as always by the First Sword of Braavos. Ferrego Antaryon introduced the deadly bodyguard in High Valyrian, which luckily Tyrion knew a bit of. “Greetings Westerosi, this is the First Sword Baskar Voletin.” Tyrion spoke High Valyrian to him in turn. “This is Jon Targaryen, King of Westeros. I am the Prime Minister of the Sunset Republic, formerly the Seven Kingdoms.” Jon smiled at another man Tyrion did not know. “Tycho Nestoris? Do you remember me?” The man wore a ridiculous pointed hat and large purple robes. He had wide eyes and a big smile on his face. “Could it be? The Lord Commander Jon Snow?” Tyrion approached the man. “You know each other from the Wall?” Jon answered for him. “When I was Lord Commander, Tycho Nestoris negotiated with me terms for a loan from the Iron Bank of Braavos.” Nestoris confirmed it for Tyrion. “Just so, if I recall we never received our repayment from the Night’s Watch.” He said it with a smile but Jon’s expression changed fast. “The Night’s Watch is gone now, destroyed the day the Wall was breached. I’ll gladly make good on our payment though, honestly I completely forgot about the loan.”

    Tyrion interrupted their reunion. “We’ll have time for that later. I see the Iron Bank sent you to treat with us as well. I will cut to the heart of the matter here and now. Volantis and New Ghis have joined forces and formed a dual empire. They also have Myr, Lys, Tyrosh, Yunkai, Astapor, and Qarth as allies. They hired many free companies, they have a Dothraki Khalasar, and they even made common cause with Euron Greyjoy whom was once King of the Iron Islands until we defeated him. We come to you, seeking to form an alliance of our own.” The Sealord Antaryon wore the same robes as Nestoris. He rubbed at his forked mustache for a moment. He spoke in the common tongue this time. “This self styled Volantene-Ghiscari Empire poses no threat to Braavos. Our walls are made of ships, our moat is the sea.” Tyrion and Jon glanced at each other. Jon tried his hand at diplomacy. “My lords, they outnumber you, once they consolidate their power, once they’ve seized upon every stretch of land in Essos, you will be next. No matter how formidable Braavos is, you can’t take on an entire continent of enemies.”

    The Sealord thought for a moment. “So what do you need of us?” _We need each other, if only the fat fool could see that._ “No one can match Braavos at sea by themselves but the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire has you beat with the other Free Cities and rebel Ironborn longships. If we make an alliance however, we’d have a two to one advantage in warships. I also know you’ve been seeking a bride for your son. What is his name?” “Just so, his name is Gyrro. He has counted sixteen name days.” _These negotiations are going better than I thought. Maybe they realize their peril._ “I have a daughter, she is seven years younger than your son but when she is of age she will make a great match for him. I’ll pay off the debt the Night’s Watch owes the Iron Bank and Catelyn, my daughter, her dowry will be her weight in gold and a tract of land in Westeros for your son with the chance to build a keep if he should wish.” Jon and Tyrion glanced at each other, both of them had a smile on their face because the look of hunger in the eyes of Ferrego Antaryon and Tycho Nestoris told them everything they needed to know. “Just so, we shall join together to rid Essos of slavery once and for all.” _Now the stage is set. But first, another voyage._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like when it comes to diplomacy, back in medieval times, marriage contracts were one of the main tools kingdoms used to solidify an alliance.


	11. Tycos II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every war starts with a battle plan. No different in this scenario.

The day was hot, humid, and placid wind that a man could almost grab, much like he would with a sword or shield. Tycos, Brandon, and the other generals had landed east of Volantis near the Demon Road. Many of the men at arms mentioned the curse that has plagued travelers in the years after the Doom of Valyria. Tycos had ignored all that and soon their camp was set up. In a giant red pavilion they sat contemplating how to go about fighting the massive host outside the walls of both Pentos and Meereen. Rourke Piper wanted to lift the siege of Pentos by besieging Volantis. Perwyn Frey objected to that outright. “I am the lord of the Twins. Volantis is as stout as the Twins, in order to run a siege we would need to hold both sides of the Rhoyne.” Wylis Manderly suggested marching immediately on the foe near Pentos. The whole time they all discussed how to go about the war Tycos would listen in silence.

Soon everyone was looking to Brandon and Tycos. Brandon agreed with the fat Wylis Manderly. “I think we should start towards Pentos at daybreak. We have word from my father and the Prime Minister. They defeated a squadron of Volantene, Lysene, Tyroshi, and Myrish ships sent to blockade Pentos and starve them into submission. They took a small fleet to Braavos and struck an alliance with them. There is bad news as well. It appears the Volantene- Ghiscari Empire formed an alliance with none other than Euron Greyjoy. They scattered the fleets of Admiral Asha Greyjoy and Grand Admiral Victarion Greyjoy. Lord Paxter Redwyne has been named Grand Admiral and Theon Greyjoy has been named Vice Admiral. Theon is taking a detachment of ships to see Lady Sansa and her children to Sunspear and Redwyne is making ready to take the fleet stationed her and attack the slaver strongholds in the Gulf of Grief.” There was a look of genuine shock on every man in the pavilion.  _ Gods, if mother is attacked by Euron he might very well kill my siblings and mother. Or worse, take her as a prize.  _

Tycos couldn’t remain quiet. “What of my family? Are my siblings and mother safe? Why would she be sailing the waters of the Sunset and Narrow Seas when war is brewing?” Brandon shrugged “I truly have no answer for you. Lady Sansa and your siblings have the protection of their sworn shield, Lady Brienne. Your mother wanted the children to enjoy their trip and thought sailing would be easier on them than a wheelhouse. It’s bloody madness to sail to Lannisport, even if we had no enemies that far west.” Tycos couldn’t remain distressed for long. He and Brandon were to lead the armies of Westeros into a serious conflict. Tycos wanted to find out everything he could about their dispositions. “How many heavy horse do we have? How many archers and crossbow men? We need siegecraft, I want to make sure everyone has what they need for the long march. I want to make sure we are prepared for this in every way.” As Quartermasters, Lord Edmure Tully and Lord Wyman Manderly were responsible for seeing to the needs of the men. Hopefully Lord Manderly saved some rations for the soldiers, he looked as if he could eat the whole baggage train. Lord Tully spoke up. “The fleet that ferried us to Essos is still standing by until the rest of the fleet meets them, they all probably assumed Victarion Greyjoy was leading it but I’ll inform Lord Gendry of the news, he is in charge of the fleet right now until the Grand and Vice Admirals arrive. At present we have nigh on eighty thousand men.”

Tycos nodded. “Go on.” Edmure cleared his throat and continued. “We have twenty thousand heavy horse. They are well trained men from the Vale of Arryn, the Westerlands, the Reach, and the North. We have twenty thousand Dornish and Unsullied spears. We also have ten thousand knights, from White Harbour and the regions south of the Neck. The finest bowmen and crossbow men from the Sunset Republic, ten thousand archers from the Dornish Marches, and ten thousand from the Westerlands. We have seven thousand engineers, and builders to see to siegecraft and the supply lines, as well as pickets and scouts. As for the fleet waiting, we have one hundred at present, possibly twice that if Braavos and Vice Admiral Theon augment them.” Tycos was impressed by Lord Tully’s work. He looked to Lord Manderly next for the logistics and food stocks, as well as weapons and siege equipment. “What of the supplies?” He stammered for a moment but recovered quickly.  “At present the men use at least two pounds of food a day. That means we have enough for three months, if we control the seas we can supply them indefinitely but if not that means we risk cutting them down to short rations. The horses, and mules have enough fodder, especially when living off the land here with plenty of tall grass. We have plenty of arms and armour for the men. Lord Davos made sure we didn’t lack maesters to tend to any wounded. We have plenty of scorpions, ladders, rams. We are well provisioned.”

_ Our army is the most well trained and supplied in the known world. What a glorious time to be a soldier.  _ Of course, every untested army made up of young men wanting to prove themselves feel the same way. Tycos would either go down as a hero, or a failure. He had his plans already.  _ Many of them will not agree but what of it?  _ Tycos looked to Brandon. “I want you to lead the heavy and light cavalry to ride with great haste towards Pentos. Surely they know we are here but they won’t expect an attack in such a short period of time. You could make it there within half a fortnight at the latest. Take whatever arms and armour you need but feed and water the horses in the grasslands. Take enough rations for three days but live off the land. Take what you need if you have to, there are many villages near Pentos to the south.” 

Brandon looked incredulous, many of the other men too. Rourke Piper, Wylis Manderly, Perwyn Frey. Tormund Giantsbane was one of the men in the pavilion, he was leading the light cavalry, and he had a wide grin. “I like it. Hit ‘em hard, they won’t know what hit them.” Ser Jorah who was advisor to both Brandon and Tycos objected outright. “You can’t do this, the baggage train would not be able to supply them over such a long distance. The footmen would fall far behind as well. The march is much longer for the bulk of our forces. Not to mention they would be outnumbered four or five to one. The enemy have enough Dothraki alone to match all of our forces.” Tycos looked at Ser Jorah. “I am a knight, and my father told you to advise me, not to question my judgement.” “And I advise you that this plan is pure folly.” Tycos gave him a stare that chilled him. “The foot, as well as baggage train will not be following Prince Brandon. We march towards a different destination. We will take a city, but it won’t be Volantis. We march north and east.” Brandon and Jorah were confused. Ser Jorah broke the silence. “What city?” “One in which we need no ladders or rams to breach. I need to draw some of their forces away from Pentos.” It was at that point that they all grasped what Tycos intended.

Ser Jorah knew more of the Dothraki culture than anyone else in the pavilion. “You can’t attack Vaes Dothrak. You’d turn every Khalesar in Essos against us, even our own Dothraki forces would turn against you, regardless of the Queen. The Dothraki believe that the shedding of blood in Vaes Dothrak is the most dire of sins. No Dothraki are permitted to wear weapons in the city. They have mostly old women serving the Dosh Khaleen and young children in the city.

The Western Market has innocent travelers and traders there as well. I implore you to reconsider. It would mean the destruction of our army.” Everyone was silent again.  _ I knew this would be their reaction, but it doesn’t mean I’ll change my battle plans.  _ “How many cities have the Dothraki destroyed? How many cultures and civilisations have they scoured from the continent of Essos? Why should I give any regard for the Dothraki culture when they’ve not gave a fig for any other race or religion?” Jorah objected again “but.” It was too much. “Ser Jorah, my father and the other Senators gave you the position as advisor, much like you were with Queen Daenerys. I welcome your opinion, but when I give an order, I expect everyone to follow it. That doesn’t only apply to my generals, it applies to you as well.” Ser Jorah looked at him and spoke with a flat tone.  “As you say… Field Marshal.”  _ As long as they obey my command, that is all that matters.  _ “Good, get some rest. March at daybreak.”

At dawn, Lord Samwell and Lady Gilly’s youngest son entered the red pavilion Tycos slept in. Tycos was already awake and Cydwell was a new made squire. Both Brandon and Tycos as new made knights could now make other knights and accepted Lord Tarly’s son Cydwell as Tycos’ second squire. His other squire, Moargyn Sarsfield was outside on guard duty, and Lord Garlan Tyrell’s son, Leo was the squire second squire to Brandon. He was nervous “mnmm.. My Lord.” Tycos smiled at him. “Come on, lad. No need to be afraid, this lion doesn’t harm his own pride.” The boy nodded. He was of an age with Tycos’ brother Jaime. Jaime was squire to Ser Daven Lannister. Cydwell Tarly was fashioning Tycos’ armour on as all squires did for their knights. Tycos’ elected to don the Lannister crimson armour. It was gorgeous armour in truth. It had cost nearly enough gold to raise an entire army. Two golden lions clasped on the heavy grey silk of the Stark colours. The Tarly boy was dressed in simple enameled steel plate with a leather jerkin underneath. He had a pot helm on with the same colour.

Tycos spoke to the boy as he did his duty. “Are you nervous at all? I don’t suppose you’ve ever swung a sword in anger before.” The boy quickly answered, a meek voice expelled from his throat. “Y.. Yes. I’ve only ever trained with the other boys at Horn Hill.”  _ Green as summer grass. I suppose most of us are.  _ “I doubt you will be in the thick of the fighting. I command the rear of the center lines of battle.” After the boy was finished Tycos’ blew out the candles and both of them exited the pavilion. Tycos, Cydwell, and the younger squire Sarsfield  walked towards one of the generals, Addam Marbrand. Two guards posted outside his red pavilion. “Wake up Lord Marbrand, tell him it’s time and to wake the army.” One of the guards entered Marbrand’s tent and it seemed like a lot of time passed by the time Addam Marbrand appeared before him. “You wanted to see me, Field Marshal?” “Yes, wake the camp. The foot soldiers march on Vaes Dothrak after the morning meal, all mounted units will head west towards Pentos.”

The men when woke began eating their morning rations of salted pork, bread, and vegetable stew. It might be the last decent meal they have in a while so Tycos and Brandon along with Lord Wyman Manderly and Edmure Tully made sure it was a good one. After an hour had passed, Brandon found Tycos.  _ I ask a lot from Brandon and Tormund.  _ Tycos had to ask. “You and Tormund are okay with this? You went over the plan when you reached Pentos. “I explained it to Turmund, my father was right. If there ever was a man more full of wind, we’ve yet to meet him.” Tycos and Brandon had a good natured chuckle, you had find humor as a warrior or you would think of what could go wrong, and maybe your doubt would  result in death for thousands of men. Brandon continued “I told him the plan but had to dumb it down a little. He’s a ferocious fighter but knows little in the ways of military tactics.” 

He shrugged. “We’ve learned at a school meant to groom us for battle and leadership, he was a wildling set on invading the south before my father befriended him. All the wildlings knew was throwing man after man at the Night’s Watch while the men of the Watch had fewer numbers. Discipline beats reckless abandonment everytime.”  _ The Dothraki fight the same way, let us pray that you are right. If not then me and my men are in deadly danger.  _ Lord Marbrand, Eddard Dayne of Starfall, Rourke Piper and Perwyn Frey of the Riverlands all marched in the ranks of footment marching on Vaes Dothrak

Leading the mounted forces was the Prince, Ser Brandon Targaryen and Tormund Giantsbane. When Giantsbane was introduced to the other commanders many would have thought he had a large band of warriors with him.  _ It was just all of these useless titles he prattles on about.  _ Once all the forces were formed up, the generals all wished each other good fortune. Tycos and Brandon clasped forearms. “Don’t get yourself killed, if something isn’t right, wait before you attack. I don’t think we have a Red Priest with us like your father.” “Nor you, Lannister.” And both armies started marching. One to the north and east, the other to the north and west.  _ The Dothraki Sea. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make sure everyone knew exactly what our characters were working with here and their plans for dealing with the new enemy.


	12. Sansa III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get an update from Sansa and the children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We see if Sansa is in any danger

  “Ships, Captain! I see a large squadron of ships, flying the Kraken of Greyjoy!” bellowed the old craggy man in the crow’s nest. He was shirtless with skin darkened by the sun. He wore patched woolen trousers. In his hands was a lovely Myrish spyglass allowing him to see at a great distance. Sansa was on the deck clutching both of her children, and they were very curious about all things. From the coast of Dorne, to the sea, to every ship that sailed past, her children wanted to see everything but now they were afraid. When Sansa had stopped at Sunspear they were well received by Princess Arianne. The Princess of Dorne had augmented their fleet by twenty five ships due to the shocking return of Euron Greyjoy. Apparently he held most of the Iron Islands now and nobody knew where he’d strike next.

    The captain of the ship, Martyn Hill; natural son of Quenten Banefort, answered him. “Friend or foe?” The fleet on the western horizon was signaling to the fleet escorting her. The weathered crewman up in the nest replied. “They are not our enemies.” Martyn Hill bellowed out orders. “Very well Raymond. Men, signal the rest of the fleet to furl the sails. We wait for them.” Sansa had made sure her children as well as her own person was presentable everyday incase of meeting anyone of note. Of course, that would be the case regardless of anticipating a visit or not. Tyrion always good spirited when  taunting her over her courtesies. Men had their swords and shields to protect them, women had weapons no man could wield.

 Sansa chose the colours of her father’s house. A grey silk dress with white trim. There were no shoulders and the top of her bosom was visible. She also wore a silver chain with a direwolf. Her son Jaime wore a red leather doublet with red woolen breeches to match. His golden hair was down to his shoulders. Sansa’s daughter Catelyn wore the same dress Sansa wore. The ships of the incoming fleet were very fast, like a bird of prey shadowing it’s victim. Longships with black sails dipped fifty ores at a time. The hulls of their fleet were all black as well.

The largest one Sansa could make out bore a figurehead of a large kraken, tentacles grasping the bow of the ship. It had six smaller sails with a seventh and largest in the middle. All of the sails on that ship were black and gold. Sansa’s own flagship had five sails all of them red and gold. Named after Azor Ahai’s wife, Lady Nissa was not a ship made for battle but made for leisure and trade. The ship had a figurehead of Nissa Nissa with a sword plunged into her breast, arms reaching out to embrace. It was near sunset when the ally fleet arrived. Asha Greyjoy boarded Lady Nissa from her flagship, Black Wind. Sansa wasted no time in greeting her. “Lady Asha, I don’t think you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my children. This is my twelve year old son, Jaime. This is my nine year old, Catelyn.” Asha smiled and rubbed Jaime’s head. “I am no lady, my lady. It’s an honour to meet you. I see you’re all taller than your father, of course this is no great achievement.” Normally Sansa would defend her husband’s pride but she knew Asha meant no offense. Japes aimed at her family did no harm if they were in good nature. “Lady Sansa, as much as I’d like it to be, my coming here has nothing to do with meeting your children. Is there a place we can speak in private?” _Oh, I hope it’s not anything terrible._ “Sure, children return to our cabin, I will see you there soon.” 

The captain graciously allowed them to use his quarters. Located below the stern of the ship. There was a dark oak table near the stained glass window in Martyn Hill’s room. There was a large map on the table, a large dagger and a candle on two of the corners that curled up. There was only one chair and after a small dispute over who would sit in it Asha sat on the feather bed and Sansa on the wood and leather chair. “My lady, your husband has sent me to make sure you make it to Lannisport. He is not very happy you decided to take the longer, and more dangerous route to get to Casterly Rock.”

  _I should have known he’d be upset. I should have known a lot of things._ “I wanted the children to enjoy themselves. They were unhappy about their father leaving. They deserve some joy in their lives.” Asha shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know anything about that. All I know is the Prime Minister sent me orders to see you and your children safely to Lannisport.” _How large a force does Euron Greyjoy have to require this many warships?_ “What happened in the Sunset Sea?” Asha had such an intense look on her face that even knights would think twice about provoking her. “We were sailing, my uncle Victarion was sailing to many of the ports to gather sails to fight the enemy in the Jade Sea and Gulf of Grief when we were set upon by my uncle Euron and his Volantene-Ghiscari allies. We had fewer ships because we didn’t think the Volantene-Ghiscari fleet would attack.”

    Asha wiped a single tear from her cheek. “Even if they did attack, we didn’t think they’d make it past the force we left in the Stepstones. We soon learned we were wrong to underestimate the enemy. Euron attacked us, he had the element of surprise and outnumbered us three to one. Victarion and a few other ships spearheaded a frontal attack on Euron to buy the larger portion of our fleet to retreat. However, this meant sacrificing the small force attacking Euron. I witnessed Euron behead my uncle Victarion, all so I could tuck my tail and get away.”

Sansa got up and sat next to Asha, who was crying at this point. “It’s okay Asha, it isn’t your fault. Nobody knew about an enemy in the western seas.” Asha shook her head. “Euron holds the Iron Islands now. I hope Rodrik and Tris are okay, I’ve known them most of my life. Only Pike and Harlaw holds out now.”

    Sansa was shocked. _How could all the Iron Islands fall so quickly?_ “How did Euron manage to take all of the islands so quickly?” “Because many of the houses betrayed the Sunset Republic and joined Euron with the promise that they would once again return to the old way. Many Ironborn find it humiliating to work the fields, mine the caverns, and trade with the Godless greenlanders. They were loyal to me, but loyalty to the Drowned God is stronger. When Euron came, many of the priest started preaching that Euron was their salvation, claiming he would expel the septons, and once again pay the iron price for goods.” The entire western coast of Westeros was now vulnerable to attack. Sansa needed to sail for Lannisport as quickly as possible. _If we were attacked by Euron we could very well find ourselves prisoners or worse._ Sansa would have no problem giving her life to save her children. “Maybe I should take my children back to Sunspear or even King’s Landing or New Valyria.” Asha shook her head. “We were surprised by Euron, it’s entirely possible the enemy sails near the Summer Isles or Dorne.”

    “But we have to sail to land quickly!” “Aye, we do my lady. We make for Lannisport, the Prime Minister’s cousin is waiting for you there and will escort you to Casterly Rock. I have orders that if we are attacked to engage the enemy to allow you and a small force to escape. If it is a small attack we will surround you and destroy the enemy force.” Sansa’s fear was put to rest with knowing that her children would escape. “Well I thank you for your protection. We shall set sail at daybreak. I have a…” Asha cut her off. “No, we must sail immediately.” _It’s that serious?_ “But the men are tired from the voyage.” Asha shrugged. “They’ve had to sail without sleeping or eating plenty of times, trust me, I am knowledgeable about the ways of sailors. I’m going to go give my fleet the orders we just went over. I’ll speak to your captain as well.” Sansa bid Asha thanks and farewell. 

    When she made her way back to her cabin she found both children asleep. It was late, Sansa guessed that they Asha had spoken with her at least a few hours. Sansa put her hand to her mouth as she let out a yawn. She climbed into her soft feather bed. Catelyn woke up at the sound of Sansa climbing in bed. “Mother, can I sleep with you?” Sansa lifted the blanket, signalling that Catelyn had permission to climb in bed with her. Soon afterwards Jaime did that same. Sansa fell asleep with a child resting their head on each side of her. Sansa had heard the men on the ship speak about the Ironborn and how they steal women and children. Worse, the slavers of Volantis and Yunkai sold slaves to the nations in Essos. _A man wearing a leather jerkin and a whip with three thongs stood over Sansa and her children. “Three highborn from the savage Sunset Kingdoms. They require no beatings, they can read and write, and they can do sums. Their mother would fetch a high price as a hostage, or she would make a good bed slave in the pleasure gardens of Lys.” He laughed at that._

_An old man with skin the colour of polished obsidian called out. “Thirty marks!” Another man offered to buy her children but not her. Others offered to buy her and not her children. The bidding reached three hundred. A man bought both of her children. Sansa begged them. “Please, please, don’t take my children from me!” The overseer lashed her across the back, and she fell forward onto her hands. She looked up with tears in her eyes as the crowd laughed and threw rotten fish, moldy bread, and excrement at her. Both children were suffering the same brutal punishment while they were wailing and calling for her. She saw a guard standing at each side of the platform they were on. She grabbed a spear from one of them and stabbed the overseer in the throat. The guards all started towards her but she jumped from the platform and darted towards the men taking her children away. She felt her one of her knees buckle, and to her despair she was disarmed. A man uttered words she didn’t understand and went to stab her._ “No!” Sansa was sweating. The room was dark, and she saw the candles had burnt out. _It was just a terrible dream._ Sansa thanked the New Gods and the Old Gods. She looked out the window and saw the sky was coloured cobalt in the east. 

    When the sun was finally out, Sansa broke her fast with her children. They ate some bread, cheese, and salted pork. It wasn’t the food they were used to but it was still good. Sansa and the children made their way to the deck. Jaime tapped Sansa’s  back. “How long before we reach Lannisport?” Sansa had no clue where they were in truth. “I couldn’t say, son. We can’t be far, when we were in sight of land last it was north of us so we may still be south of Dorne.” Catelyn had been restless the past few days as well. She asked Sansa if she could go play. “Can me and Jaime go play Cyvasse? Brother has been teaching me how to play.” Tyrion had taught Jaime how to play and they both loved it. She smiled “of course you can.” 

    “Make sure you don’t get into mischief while below deck, I know you both very well.” Both of her children shot like a crossbow bolt towards the stairs leading below deck. Sansa approached the captain near the helm of Lady Nissa. He had a serious look on his face, which troubled Sansa. “What is it Martyn?” He pointed towards the starboard side of the ship. “There is a storm approaching us from the west.” _So we are sailing of the western coast of Westeros._ “Should we all go to our cabins?” He shook his head. “This storm isn’t as serious as the ones in the Narrow Sea. Plus it isn’t Autumn or Winter, those are the times when storms are at their most dangerous. My men have no problem braving the storm but you will want to avoid getting wet regardless. Sure enough the storm hit them with lashing rain. From her window in her cabin she could see the seas were still more calm than the Narrow Sea usually was so her mind was put to ease.

    Two more days passed by before Sansa finally saw a city in the distance. Captain Martyn Hill called to her and her children. “Lannisport, we shall soon arrive in port.” An hour passed before they arrived along with Asha’s ship Black Wind. The rest of their fleet anchored off the coast out of sight. Lannisport was a beautiful city, before the reconstruction of King’s Landing and before New Valyria was built, Lannisport was the second most prominent city in the realm. Old Town was much grander than Lannisport but it was still a beautiful city. The wharfs had men calling out the day’s catch and there were taverns and alehouses nearby, as well as brothels. _They all mourned the day Tyrion wed me. They had lost their biggest patron._ Something that was ironic given Tyrion’s size. A young boy appeared on the dock looking lost. He approached her and the children with a look of fear. “Lady Sansa?” “I am, and this is my son Jaime, and my daughter Catelyn.” The boy regained some of his composure. “I am Dollen Lefford.”

    Sansa formally introduced her and her children to the boy. “I am Lady Sansa Lannister of Casterly Rock, and these children are Jaime and Catelyn Lannister.“Ser Daven sent me to find you and your children.” Sansa nodded. Some of the men from Lady Nissa were carrying their belongings. She addressed them. “This way, I believe Ser Daven Lannister has accommodations for us.” As they walked the boy informed them where they were going. “Lord Tyrion Lannister has named Damian Lannister the Lord of Lannisport. He is also an overseer of trade and ship building in the city.” Sansa was aware that Damian Lannister was husband to Lealya Lannister. She had been a Lantell, an offshoot of House Lannister in the Age of Heroes. Sansa had met them during their wedding ceremony. They both seemed like good people in her eyes, though Tyrion referred to Damian as ‘Damian the Desperate’ due to his yearly petitions to receive a tract of land from the Senate. Once, a few years ago, Damian had discovered some of the men working in the dockyards were cheating the Sunset Republic by asking for sums of gold to build ships of better quality and using lesser materials after receiving the gold. Tycos had only been thirteen at the time but wanted to take a hand from each of the men charged. Tyrion didn’t take such drastic measures but did make them rebuild many of the ships, then removing them from service. Sansa smiled when she thought about Tyrion complaining. _“You would think he was a member of the Royal Guard saving the lives of the Royal Family or maybe a senator or ten. He says he wants rewarded. So I named him as Ship and Trade Master of Lannisport, but that is not enough is it? No, he wants more.”_

    It would appear Tyrion finally yielded to his request. A new structure was being built near Tyrion’s statue at the new Sunset Republic Square, which was built to honour the deeds accomplished by Tyrion during and after the Great War.

    Dollen finally stopped at an inn near the square. The Golden Halfman, very obviously meant to impress her husband, was where Daven was drinking ale in the commonhall of the inn. A fire was going in the hearth, on the mantle was a painting of Tyrion wearing his famous armour from the Battle of Blackwater, wielding a deadly looking twin headed axe. “I see you met my page, Dollen.” He smiled and patted Jaime’s head. “Aye boy, you’re gonna be a splitting image of your father, and you look as beautiful as your mother with your auburn hair and red dress.” Sansa returned the smile. “I appreciate you looking after us.” “Lord Tyrion commanded me to do the deed. After I take you to Casterly Rock I am to link up with Forley Prestor and gather forces from the west in anticipation of an attack from the thrice damned fool Euron Greyjoy. We fear he means to land in Westeros, we just don’t know where.” The news was troubling to say the least. Ser Daven Lannister leaned to see past Sansa and her children. “Lady Asha.” Sansa turned around in surprise to indeed see Asha Greyjoy standing behind her. “Ser Daven, how many men do you command at present?” He rubbed at his beard. “I’d say we’ve gathered and trained another ten thousand between me and Sandor Clegane. We’ll add another ten thousand when we meet up with Ser Forley Prestor at the Golden Tooth.” Asha had a troubled look on her face. “I have one hundred ships. Euron Greyjoy has landed an invasion force made up of Ironborn, and Volantene-Ghiscari men in the Riverlands. They have Seagard under siege and have other places in their sights. They mean to take the Twins, and Riverrun.” The room fell silent. _And now we know where they’ve landed._

  
  
  
  
  


   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want this story to mirror WW1 and WW2 with some European medieval wars mixed in for good measure


	13. Tyrion III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Tyrion arrive to their realm to spend some time with family and discuss what to do about that old fool Euron and his powerful friends.

“You realize we had a large fleet in the Narrow Sea within the matter of half a fortnight and nobody notices enemy sails near our own borders?” Tyrion was incredulous.. His target was his new Vice Admiral, Theon Greyjoy. He had once taunted Theon in Winterfell, mainly because of his arrogance and condescending manner. Jon hadn’t liked him when he was a bastard, and didn’t hold a very high opinion of him as a Targaryen. He had taken Winterfell once, although they came to find out he hadn’t been the one to sack and burn it. Theon was different now, surely being flayed and gelded had a lot to do with it. “I understand my lord, but in all fairness, Euron most likely was already in the Summer or Sunset Sea well before this war started. Euron has always been mad, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had led the fleet south of the Summer Isles. Perhaps near Basilisk Point or off the coast of Sothoryos.” Jon questioned Theon. “We had trade established with many of the Free Cities, the Summer Isles, Qarth, and even Volantis, how could this go unnoticed by all of our merchant fleets?” “I didn’t know Euron well as a child. Having left when I was nine, but everyone knew Euron was mad. He claimed to my uncle Victarion and to my sister Asha that he even sailed the Smoking Sea of ancient Valyria. Who knows if that’s true but I wouldn’t count that possibility out either. We defeated him in Blackwater Bay and witnessed his retreat at sea. Nobody pursued him so it’s possible he licked his wounds in Asshai.” Tyrion and Jon had sailed back to Westeros, not because of Euron Greyjoy though. They were already on the way when they received word of his landing.

Now Tyrion, Jon, and Theon were discussing the best course of action. They had landed at Saltpans on the eastern coast of the Riverlands. Theon joined them a day later to report the news. He had departed from Asha’s fleet after they saw Sansa and the children safe to Casterly Rock.  _ Thirty thousand men, ferried over to the mainland from the Iron Islands. Gods, Euron is a whoreson.  _ He had men who had joined him from Essos, specifically from New Ghis. He also acquired more Ironborn with the promise of lands. Euron’s reward would be Triarch of Westeros. He would rule Westeros in the name of the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire. They were in the great hall of a tavern, a map of Westeros laid out on the table. Jon put his finger on it. “Most likely they’ll try to invest the Twins, or they’ll march on the capital, though they’d find it hard to place New Valyria or King’s Landing under siege, the two cities are a larger version of the Twins.”

“Asha is going to make an attempt at taking back the Iron Islands. Paxter Redwyne is nearing Meereen. He’s faced no resistance so far, perhaps he could sail for Blackwater Bay and prevent both cities from being completely surrounded.” “No, we need Meereen. It will fall any day now. Braavos has recently joined our cause, maybe they can help.” Tyrion wanted control of Slaver’s Bay and the Gulf of Grief. “Do you still want me to sail to Qarth? I think I would be better used in the Stepstones. Euron would be trapped in the Sunset Sea.” “No, I don’t want Lord Redwyne trapped. We don’t know very much about Qarth’s naval power.” They were decided. Tyrion would meet up with Sansa, Jon would head to the capital to meet up with the Queen. Theon would blockade Qarth and with a large desert at the front of Qarth and Theon blocking any food or supplies from reaching the city it would fall. “Once we have things in Westeros sorted out, I will need you again Jon, a diplomatic mission to the Summer Isles.” “They have never once joined in any conflict from Essos or Westeros.” 

Jon was right of course.  _ They have never stirred when we came to either continent.  _ “They might if they realize the Volantene-Ghiscari threat affects them. They want control of the known world, they won’t stop until they have every bit of territory charted on a map.” They were walking the docks by now. Theon had already sailed off to take care of an adversary, Tyrion and Jon to do the same. Tyrion would have taken a swift longship through the Trident if there wasn’t an enemy army in the Riverlands. He would have no choice but to sail the Blackwater and ride to the Westerlands on foot.  _  The days of me fighting armies are over.  _ He would help their nation in other ways. It was three days before they reached the Blackwater Rush and another four before he reached the road leading to the west. Tyrion woke up before even a hint of dawn was in the sky. A man Tyrion didn’t know opened the flap of his tent. “My lord, begging your pardons but a rider came in the night. Sorry to intrude on your sleep but it’s of great importance.” Tyrion sat up and rubbed his eyes. “It’s okay. As a child I was told a lack of sleep stunts your growth but when you’re a dwarf it doesn’t really matter. Bring this rider to me.” 

After a few moments the tent flap opened again. “He told me a rider came, not a dog.” Sandor Clegane’s mouth twitched. “Alysanne Lefford sent me, imp.” “Very well, what does the Lady of the Tooth need of me? Not another betrothal I hope.” Clegane helped himself to Tyrion’s wine. “No, she told me to seek you out because that squid has her pinned up. She told me she needs your cousin’s army.”  _ She holds one of the most formidable castles in Westeros and Euron can’t besiege her if he can’t encircle her.  _ “Your cousin has raised more than ten thousand men. I am going with them. I’ll bugger that slimy bastard Euron with my sword.”  _ There’s a sight I’m not eager to see.  _ “Where are my wife and children?” “The little bird and cubs are at the Rock.” Tyrion was putting on his garb for the day while speaking with Clegane. 

“You both know more about tactics than I do, I will leave the battle planning with you and Daven.” When the Hound left the sun in the sky could be seen in the east. The camp was neat and orderly and his escort were taking them down, packing provisions and feeding the horses. Once the camp was packed they started off to Casterly Rock. Day by day they edged their way to his castle. After five days a boy pointed out the obvious. “My lord, Casterly Rock is just up ahead.” “The Rock is two thousand feet tall and spans for leagues. I have no business riding a horse if I can’t see something that big.” The boy looked as if he had been struck so Tyrion let him know it was only a jape.  _ Reminds me of another lad I know.  _ “What’s your name?” “Ryman if it please you.” “You’re doing good lad, here take this.” He tossed the boy a gold dragon. 

As they approached the gates they could all see the man at the top trying to figure out who they were. He finally noticed the banner of House Lannister. “Open the gates!” As they made their way past the Lion’s Mouth, main entrance to the Rock, men began to bow to Tyrion. Soon Tyrion made his way into the castle to seek out his family. After asking a few people where they were he made it to the doors of the great hall. He opened the door to find his wife and  children eating the evening meal. They turned to see who interrupted their dinner. Sansa was stunned. Both of their children nearly knocked Tyrion off his feet rushing him with hugs. Sansa was in tears. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon, my lord.” Tyrion walked towards Sansa. He knelt and kissed her hand. “I had not thought to be back so soon.” Servants brought Tyrion food so he could enjoy dinner with his family. “How is the war going? We’ve heard frightening things.” Tyrion shrugged. “Our son and Brandon have safely arrived in Essos and lead a large host as we speak. Euron took us unawares in the Sunset Sea and he has most of the Iron Islands in his grasp. Euron and his allies from Essos landed near the Cape of Eagles.”

He took a bite of the roast boar on his plate. “Jon is in the capital, Theon Greyjoy is leading a fleet to fight the slavers. Paxter Redwyne sails for Meereen to relieve the city. Pentos has been resupplied and Braavos has joined the war on our side.” Sansa gave Tyrion a searching look. “Are you back for good?” “I’m afraid not, after Jon and myself are done we will sail to the Summer Isles to garner support.” Tyrion knew Sansa wasn’t happy to hear that but he couldn’t help it. The steward opened the doors. “A raven came from the King.” He handed Tyrion the scroll. He read it and laid the parchment on the dinner table. “What is it my lord?” “It is a decree from the King. Jaime, congratulations. You are now Lord of Winterfell and you now bear the name Jaime Stark.” Sansa was utterly lost. “But why would you do that?” “Because the Stark name will fade if I don’t. You’re half Lannister and half Stark, son. It doesn’t matter whether the father is a Stark, you’re blood contains blood from the Stark and Lannister families.”

After they finished their meal they went to the Hall of Heroes. “This is your uncle, your namesake, and my brother.” Jaime and Catelyn both looked at the statue. “My brother was far from perfect. He did terrible things, but he also saved not only your mother, but me as well, along with many others.” They took a moment to silently observe the statue. Sansa broke the quiet. “He was a good man in the end. He tried to kill my brother, but he also protected him during the darkest hours of the Long Night. He redeemed himself, and sacrificed his life.”  _ It is so strange how things turn out. Sansa by all the gods should hate my brother, yet she doesn’t. _ It was dark outside by the time they reached the bed chambers. Tyrion and Sansa tucked their children in bed. After all of them wished each other good night. Their bed chamber was down the hall. Tyrion sat at the table by the hearth in their room after they had entered. “How is the pregnancy going?” Sansa was in her smallclothes. She lifted her shift enough to expose her belly.

“The maester tells me all is going well. I grow bigger every day.” Tyrion was planning on working deep into the night. “Why don’t you take a night off? The realm will keep for one night.” Tyrion smiled and closed the book he was reading.  _ She tries to hide it so well. Always a true lady.  _ Sansa never liked to admit wanton thoughts but Tyrion had come to know exactly what she wanted when she urged him to put off work. Tyrion perhaps in too great a hurry, torn her small clothes off. They didn’t sleep much that night and the scratches on Tyrion’s back stung. The next morning found them all eating together again. “When do you leave?” “In a few days, I’m sorry to leave so soon but I think I can convince the Summer Islanders to aid us and must do so quickly.” His family was so gloomy at the prospect of him leaving again but he had a duty to the realm.

The whole day found them spending time in the godswood. When the day finally came in which Tyrion had to leave none of them could contain the emotion they felt towards each other. Tyrion kissed Sansa deep. “I love you, my lady.” “Me as well, my lord.” Tyrion smiled at the old northern courtesy Sansa still shown after all this time. Tyrion went to the children next, “I want you to look after your mother. I love you both very much.” They all hugged each other. Tyrion, along with a large escort departed through the Lion’s Mouth once again. Tyrion would link up with Jon again and would sail from New Valyria to the Summer Isles. Tyrion was a few hundred yards from his ancestral home when he turned back to look at it one last time.  _ Until we meet again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a Sansa/Tyrion fan I felt it was important to give them more time together.


	14. The Heir II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More war in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A person we haven't seen in a while.

 

The day was a hot one. The siege of Pentos was effectively a farce now. For nearly half a year now with no result. The fat Prince of Pentos was being carried on in a purple and yellow palanquin. One of the members in their party announced their Prince. “I have the honour of announcing the Prince of Pentos, Semaro Tempatis. Salam was growing impatient. “Yes, we know, get on with your purpose here.” Tempatis had stepped out by then and was face to face with Salam. The Prince smiled at Salam. “We wish to see you leave the outskirts of the city, and we want you to terminate your contract with Volantis and New Ghis. The Prime Minister of the Sunset Republic, along with the King came here over a month ago and broke the naval blockade. You have no hope in starving us out.”  _ Damn this fat sack of soot, and damn Westeros as well.  _ “I have enough men to take the city by storm. By now my men number over eighty thousand. You have one day, if by then you fail to raise a peace banner, we will sack the town.”

After Salam was done, the fat men and all his party rode through the gates and barred them behind him. He had the Windblown, he had the Company of the Cat, he had the Stormcrows, and he had the Second Sons. He also had the Dothraki and men from the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire. “Captain, we have to talk.” It was Waltho, he was as white as a ghost. “What is it, Waltho?” He stammered a little bit. “It’s the Dothraki, Daynewell says they want to ride to Vaes Dothrak.”  _ What is this foolishness?  _ “They can’t leave, ignorant savages.”

“Come speak with Daynewell, he is with the Khal.” Salam didn’t see another option so he supposed he should see what all the fuss was about. When they reached the Dothraki they saw Daynewell arguing with Khal Bhaka. “What is the meaning of this?” Daynewell and Bhaka both stopped speaking and glared at Salam. “Daynewell, what is he saying?” “Captain, he… They…” “Yes, they what?” He wiped sweat from his brow. “Westerosi forces have landed east of Volantis. They are lead by Tyrion Lannister’s son and the Dragon Queen’s son Brandon Targaryen.” Salam didn’t see how that caused a fight to break out between his men. “What of it? They are hundreds of miles away.” Salam heard Khal Bhaka say something to Daynewell, anger clear in his voice. “Captain, they are marching on Vaes Dothrak. The most sacred of places for the Dothraki.”

“They would unite every Khalasar in Essos against them, I don’t see the problem.” Waltho and Daynewell exchanged a look, it was only a blink of the eye but Salam saw it. “What is it?” “Khal Bhaka says they have to defeat them, to have their sacred city destroyed would shame the entire Dothraki race.” Khal Bhaka didn’t wait for Salam to grant him permission to leave. He rode off, and the Dothraki followed.  _ Half our fighters, gone. _ By nightfall, he was sitting with his men in his pavilion. Figuring out where they went from here was the main discussion he had with the other commanders. Daynewell urged a tactical withdrawal to Volantis, Waltho said they should march on Qohor. The way things were going, almost all of the Free Cities were siding with them. Only Braavos and Pentos expected to remain independent. Both of those cities were also large trading partners to Westeros. Salam was tired. “Alright, we will take care of Pentos at a later date. We will send an envoy to Qohor but will ride to Volantis. It’s possible they will send us to the last remaining ally to Westeros in Slaver’s Bay, Meereen.”

 

Salam dismissed his men, and had a woman brought to him for the night. After he finished with her, he chased her off. Laying there naked in his bed he was fuming over the city of Pentos. He had been a knife’s edge from taking the city but he couldn’t risk attacking when everything was so uncertain. He didn’t remember falling asleep. “Captain! You must awaken!” Salam sat up angrily. “What is it you fool?” He was pale as milk. “I have the camp preparing for battle. The foe will be on us any moment.” Salam rubbed his eyes. “Pentos hasn’t the men to pose a true threat.” Waltho shook his head. “No, these men are the knights and men at arms of the Sunset Republic, flying the black and red banner of House Targaryen, as well as many others.” Salam began at once preparing himself. “Get my horse saddled and ready.” Salam started donning his armour. 

_ How could they reach us so quickly. By all accounts they had a large force marching on Vaes Dothrak. If they split their forces they’d be overrun by Dothraki within half a fortnight.  _ He heard a war horn sound. He quickly ran out of his pavilion to see a large force of heavy horse charging them. Men were struggling to form a line with the little time given to them. Shouts could be heard from every direction. Salam tried to restore order. “Get your puckered asses in formation, now!” The spearmen of the Company of the Cat were in the vanguard. Within moments the Westerosi crashed into them. Horses and men fell in the carnage with the sound of metal scraping wood. The center column bent back on itself, Ghiscari men formed the right flank, Volantene on the left. Archers in the rear strung arrows to their bows. Salam heard a man giving orders to them. “Loose!” Salam saw the center column completely break. Lances taking many of them in the back. “Get back here you fools!” Salam charged forward with Waltho on his right. The center line reformed, but the right and left had to fall back. “Captain, behind us!”

Salam wheeled his horse around, and to his dismay he saw two columns of light cavalry crash into their archers. Many of them began to flee in terror towards the other men fighting in the center.  _ What a jape.  _ Waltho was incredulous. “Captain?” Salam was laughing maniacally at this point, then he turned to Waltho. “Raise the peace banner. Throw down your weapons men!” Once the flag was raised, the fighting stopped. It was a debacle, they were caught completely off guard. After an hour the gates of Pentos were opened and Salam was permitted into the city to meet with Semaro Tempatis once again. He entered the manse of a fat magister, Illyrio Mopatis. There was food waiting for him and the other sellsword captains. The Prince of Pentos sat at the table, next to a large bearded man. A boy with long black hair sat next to Illyrio. The fat magister spoke. “Greetings, I believe I knew your father. Did you know you have the pleasure of meeting the son of Daenerys Targaryen? Brandon Targaryen, I do believe his mother was responsible for your father’s downfall. Ironic that her son is responsible for yours.” 

The Targaryen Prince looked at Salam with piercing purple eyes. Oddly, his hair wasn’t pale silver like many of the old Valyrian blood have. The fierce bearded man didn’t wait for anyone to introduce him. “I am Tormund Giantsbane, also known as Tormund Thunderfist, Father of Host, Husband to…” “Tormund, that’s enough.” It was the boy that interrupted him. “You can just call me Brandon, please sit.”  _ A boy of modesty.  _ “So what is it you want of me?” “You have many sellsword companies under your command. My cousin is leading a host to Vaes Dothrak. He wanted to see if Lannister gold was enough to convince you that our cause is the better cause.” Salam and his right hand man, Waltho, were the only ones permitted at this meeting. “We are under contract with the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire.” Illyrio smiled. “Of course, we know how honourable sellswords are when it comes to fighting for a cause so noble.”

Salam knew the game they were playing. “What of the prisoners such as the Ghiscari or Volantene?” Brandon had a stern look in those lilac eyes. “They will remain prisoners, as will you if you decline Ser Tycos’ invitation to join us as allies.”  _ Gold or imprisonment, no choice at all.  _ “Looks like we need to sign a new contract.” Illyrio waved a hand. “There’s no need. Sellswords are incredibly fickle, I’m sure if we find ourselves losing you will switch sides again. We don’t intend on losing though.” After their meal they dismissed Salam and Waltho to address the companies of sellswords. Salam was speaking to all of them. “We serve the Sunset Republic now. Ser Tycos Lannister offers generous terms, and gold, lots and lots of gold.” There were a few sympathetic men to the Volantene-Ghiscari cause shouting against everything he was saying. “Waltho, take care of those men. Quietly.” Waltho and a group of men went off to make note of the descenters. Future retribution shining in his eyes against all the men against making large sums of golden dragons.

The next day found Brandon Targaryen and Tormund Giantsbane walking in their camp flanked by Westerosi soldiers. “We are both Princes.” Brandon glared at him, brooding on his coursier. “What are you Prince of?” Salam smiled at pointed at the city before them. “I heard they already had a Prince.” “Yes well, my father was appointed that long before Semaro. Anyways, we accept the offer set before us. What do you need of us?” “Well, my cousin wants us to join our power to his before moving on Volantis.”  _ They mean to take the strongest fixed position in Essos.  _ “And how does he plan on taking Volantis? Those walls are old but stronger than any in Essos. You ought to know, it was built by the Valyrian Freehold. Harder than steel or diamond.” His mood was as somber as any Salam ever seen. As if the prospect brought to him no sorrow or joy. “We have a weapon no wall can stop.”  _ Ah yes, the dragons.  _

“I had heard your mother was planning on keeping those dragons in Westeros.” “Yes but my cousin believes if we invest both sides of the Rhoyne, and if we can show Volantis is vulnerable, that my mother or father will bring fire and blood to Volantis.” “A prospect you don’t seem to relish.” He made no reply to Salam’s words. Finally he gave Salam orders. “Have the men ready to march on the morrow.” Illyrio and Semaro approached them. Illyrio needed words with Brandon Targaryen apparently. “Your father and Tyrion Lannister have a gift for you and Tycos.” There was a black and red scabbard, as well as a gold and red one. “Valyrian Steel, they thought you both deserved a reward for taking care of the siege.” Brandon took both of the swords in his hand, studying the blades. The sound of steel scraping against wood as he took the sword out to view it. “They are beautiful, worthy of the Prince of the Seven kingdoms and the heir to Casterly Rock.” Brandon nodded solemnly.

“I’ve not seen colours like this before. My father’s sword Longclaw is a dark grey colour.” As to that Illyrio shrugged. “Sometimes we don’t need answers for a mystery.” The Valyrian Steel blade had the distinctive grey but it was shot through with teal ripples. Illyrio smiled. “They say the best swords have names.”  _ Wish I had a father to do for me what their fathers did for them.  _ After their meal Brandon had them assemble outside Pentos. He began a speech. “This ground is the very ground we clashed on. We were enemies yesterday, and now we find ourselves as allies in a very profitable relationship. Now, we can distrust each other and blame each other for dead comrades, or we can accept the fact that we are on the same side now. Volantis, the old slaver cities of the Ghiscari want to dominate the world. I hail from Westeros, and the only people we serve are the people of our realm. This so called Volantene Ghiscari Empire does not know the resolve in which the men of Westeros possess.”

_ This boy is wiser than his years.  _ Brandon paused and cleared his throat. “So, if you men are with me you can make a fortune. Will you fight for me?” The speech was well received. Men were chanting Brandon’s name. Stomping their spears or feet causing what sounded like thunder. “Very well, make camp for the night, we march in the morning to the Dothraki Sea.” After everyone disbanded Salam found Brandon. “If your cousin plans on fighting the Dothraki without mounted soldiers he is going to be massacred.” Brandon studied him for a moment. “He has a good mind for warfare. I shouldn’t think so. Either way, we will join forces with him.”  _ They don’t know these savages like I do.  _ “Very well, I will wake the men at first light. Good night, Brandon Targaryen.” He said the words in a flat voice to let this Prince know of his skeptical mindset. Later on that night he would have another dream of Pentos. He will never get that prize, but he might just strike it rich.  _ As rich as a Lannister.  _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sellswords are fickle, here we see the truth of that.


	15. Tycos III (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to show how fighting the Dothraki might play out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a two part chapter. I know that might annoy you guys but it is an important one and I do not intend on writing chapters larger than most book chapters.

  


    Black smoke filled the sky, as far as the eye could see to the west and south. Tycos had ordered the grasslands burnt for thirty leagues. Ser Jorah Mormont was constantly warning Tycos about everything. It was no different now. He was clad in his armour, the bear of House Mormont on his surcoat. Tycos was clad in golden armour with the red cloak so many Lannisters before him had worn. “Is that Vaes Dothrak there before us?” Ser Jorah had known much more than anyone else in their army about the Dothraki, having traveled with them when Daenerys Targaryen had wed some horselord. “It is commander. I must tell you this is folly. Vaes Dothrak has no fighters. Only widows of the former Khals, children, merchants, and tradesmen.” Ser Jorah had no need to inform Tycos of this. _The very reason I came here was because it was undefended._ “I want them encircled. No one is permitted to leave the city, if it can be called a city.” Mormont protested. “You’ll doom us all. The Dothraki will unite against us and we’ll be the ones besieged.” Tycos had heard enough. “You know Ser Jorah, I thought my wet nurse weaned me years ago. You sound like an old septa.”

    Ser Jorah’s face reddened. “I’m here to advise you. I know you think what you’re doing is right. Your father wouldn’t…” “My father would do what he had to in order to save his own.” Ser Jorah’s face hardened. “Tywin Lannister destroyed your mother’s family. He did that because he thought it would save House Lannister.” _I grow tired of this argument._

“Tell me, what do grass stained savages have to do with my family? Lannister or Stark, they are not my blood. I want to draw the Dothraki here and if I have to kill every man, woman, or child in Vaes Dothrak to do so I will. How many civilizations have the Dothraki put an end to? Why do they deserve mercy from us? If they invaded Westeros, do you think our mercy would prevent them from killing our men, raping our women, and enslaving our children?” Ser Jorah had no answer for him. “Exactly. Now I can appreciate your advice, but in the end I make the decisions here.” “If you have no need of my council then I will see to the men.” Tycos nodded. “In my tent tonight I want all my commanders present.” Ser Jorah saw to it and Tycos sat alone at his table. As he ate his cheese and bread, and drank his wine, he studied the map on the table. _Brandon, did you succeed?_ Tycos had allowed some Dothraki riders to escape Vaes Dothrak for the very purpose of alerting the Dothraki fighting for the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire. The best way to draw an enemy into doing something rash and foolish was to attack them where it hurts the most.

    Tycos’ squire entered the tent when he called for him. “You summoned me, my lord?” He nodded at his squire, Cydwell Tarly. “It’s nearly time for the evening meal, summon my generals. We need to speak of the morrow.” The boy left in great haste to obey his command. _He fears me, gods know what for._ Tycos was well aware of the comparisons drawn by others. His grandfather was often brought up when regarding Tycos’ choices. His grandfather on his mother’s side was mentioned as well, for different reasons. Within the hour all of the lords sat and ate with him. All of them sat and discussed all manner of things. Ser Addam Marbrand interrupted their plans. “Ser Tycos, I think you should read this.” It was a report, written by his father.

    Tycos read it aloud. _“Lords manderly, Frey, and Baratheon are to return to the Sunset Republic immediately. Fighting has broken out in the Riverlands. We fear Euron Greyjoy will attack the west or the Reach. All other lords will remain with you to defeat the foe outside Pentos. Paxter Redwyne has taken Slaver’s Bay and the Gulf of Grief after a one sided clash between the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire and his lordship. The Grand Admiral his the gulf closed to enemy ships. Vice Admiral Theon Greyjoy has Qarth under naval blockade, and Lady Asha Greyjoy is sailing against Euron and his allies in the Sunset Sea. Either King Jon or myself will send word if there are any other developments. Tyrion Lannister, Prime Minister of the Sunset Republic.”_ The quiet lord of the Stormlands objected. “We can’t leave now. We are one hundred leagues from the nearest harbour.” _All the more reason to leave at once._ Tycos listened to them argue amongst themselves before speaking. Lord Manderly didn’t want to leave either, but the lord of the Crossing, Perwyn Frey, was clearly distressed over the tidings and wanted to leave at once. Tycos raised a hand. “Silence.” He didn’t say it very loud but they all heard him. “We were given an order from my father, I do not intend on disobeying him. You three will do as you were told. Now, go prepare whatever you feel you need to prepare, and get some rest, you leave at first light.” Nobody argued with him over the matter.

    Only Ser Addam and Ser Jorah and the son of Samwell Tarly remained. “What is it Mormont?” Tycos glanced at Ser Jorah. “Maybe we should fall back to the sea.” _This again._ “The Dothraki won’t forget this. You of all people know that. They would follow us and we would be putting my cousin in danger of being cut off. No, we are going to destroy them, or we are going to be destroyed. Either way, we are going to give battle.” Tycos turned to Ser Addam Marbrand. “Is the task I set you completed?” Ser Addam looked at Ser Jorah nervously.

    “Aye my lord. The grasslands are aflame for twenty leagues as you wished. We also set the men to work outside Vaes Dothrak. Digging the pits you asked, sharpening stakes, among the other things you asked. We have the trebuchets and pots in place like you asked. I have the men set the archers to fletching arrows and making shafts for their bows.” Tycos stood up. “Very well. We’re done here Cydwell. Go get some rest, all of you. The Dothraki are coming, any day they will be here.” Ser Addam, Ser Jorah, and the squire boy Cydwell all left the tent. Tycos took some time to leave the tent and look to the night sky. Fire could be seen south and west of their camp. Fires could also be seen in Vaes Dothrak. Tycos had the city without walls completely surrounded. Nobody could leave, those who tried were barred and those who resisted were interred in holding pens, some were less fortunate and ended up buried in the ground.

    Tycos went back into his tent. He put out the candles and took off his armour. In a matter of hours he would find out whether he would be remembered as a hero, or as a tyrant. A cunning leader or a unlamented fool. Tycos didn’t dream that night. He woke up and looked to the sky to see what the hour was. Judging from the sky, he had slept for four hours. The sky was the colour of a dark bruise. Only the faintest of signs that the sun was rising. Tycos starting reading a book, one of his father’s books. The Young Dragon, Daeron Targaryen’s ‘The Conquest of Dorne’. The book was very useful to Tycos, the military campaign in Dorne was a brilliant success. The only reason it really failed in the end was because King Daeron was merciful after defeating the Dornish lords. If Tycos had been leading such an attack, he certainly would have put Sunspear to the torch the moment the Dornish rose up again in rebellion. After a few hours of reading and studying his battle plans Tycos summoned his squire. “Cydwell, my armour. Soon we will begin.”

    Tycos looked to the captains who still remained. Ser Perwyn, Lord Manderly, and Lord Gendry had departed south with one hundred men. There they would sail to Saltpans with a complement of ships Tycos’ father and Brandon’s father had sent. “Ser Addam, get the ranks of spears lined up on that hill.” Tycos had a map in his hands. Ser Addam, Ser Jorah, Rourke Piper, and Ser Eddard Dayne leaned in to get a closer look at the map. “I want columns of spears here, here, and here.” Tycos pointed at each point where he wanted his men. They would be facing the south and west, their backs to Vaes Dothrak. Ser Jorah was quick to point that fact out to Tycos. “Is that wise? If the inhabitants of Vaes Dothrak attack us we could find ourselves trapped. Thousands could die in such an event.” _And the wetnurse speaks again._ “We will have men in reserve here on the east side of Vaes Dothrak, one league away from the fighting should such an attack take place.” Tycos turned to his squire. “Send for Lord Bryce Caron and his brother Ser Rolland Caron. I also wish to see Lord Julian Swan and Ser Balon Swan as well.” 

    The boy was dutiful and left in a hurry. He was clad for battle as well, wearing grey plate with a brown surcoat underneath. Ser Addam had on his plate with a linen shirt on top bearing the burning tree of his house. Ser Jorah was wearing a leather surcoat with the bear of Mormont. Piper was wearing the pink maiden of his house. They would all command from the hill overlooking the vast wasteland that had been the Dothraki Sea. Ser Jorah had warned Tycos of the problems burning the fields would cause but as ever Tycos didn’t want or need to hear it from him. Lord Caron and his half brother Rolland along with Julian and Balon Swan came within minutes of Tycos requesting their presence. “You summoned us, my lord?” Rolland Caron was once a bastard until Tycos’ cousin, the King, legitimized Rolland. He lost his bastard name and received the Caron name. “Yes, you marcher lords are expert archers it is said.”

    Rolland nodded in agreement. “Good, I want you to command the archers. You can take our right flank. Your brother will command the center, Lord Julian Swan will command the left, and Ser Balon will have men in reserve one league east of here.” “We won’t fail you, my lord.” Tycos inclined his head. “Ser Tycos.” Tycos turned to find Lord Edmure. “Yes, what is it?” Lord Tully pulled at his collar. “I wish to depart to the Riverlands. We don’t know what Euron Greyjoy is planning but I don’t wish to see my home in ruins.” _Family, Duty, Honour. In that order I wonder?_ “My father never mentioned anything about sending you back to Westeros. In any case, you wouldn’t make it in time to board a ship. They most likely already set sail. Besides all that, I need you to make sure the men are supplied and I want you to command the siegecraft.” Edmure looked gloomy. “Don’t look so worried. We are family you know. Lannister or not, you’re still my great-uncle.” _Does Lannister blood wash out the Stark?_ With Edmure it appeared so, and he had no love for Tycos’ father. Edmure’s face was tight. “Mayhaps you and your father should try and remember that, Ser.”

    Tycos saw his squire and an unknown scout running towards him. “My lord, he’s one of the pickets from the western approach. “Very well. Cydwell, some wine. Tell me, what is it?” His breathing was heavy. “We seen the riders of the Dothraki. No more than an hour from here. We did what we could to delay them but they were riding with great haste.” Tycos wasn’t much into displaying his emotions, especially with strangers but the look on his face gave the man pause. “My lord?” _Today I will gain notoriety, or I will fade with the sun._ Cydwell returned with the wineskin. “Cydwell, prepare yourself. You as well, what is your name?” “Oswyk, my lord.” Tycos drew his sword from his scabbard. Oswyk and Cydwell were taken aback. “Kneel, both of you.” The two glanced at each other. “We have no septon to anoint you with the oils.”

    Cydwell seemed to grasp the situation. He kneeled “I am not worthy of the honour you would bestow on me.” “Kneel, Oswyk.” The scout did as he asked. “Cydwell, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, your King, and the Sunset Republic to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?” “I do.” Tycos turned to Oswyk next. “And Oswyk, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, your King, and the Sunset Republic to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?” “I do.” Tycos laid his sword on both of their shoulders. “In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women. Rise Ser Cydwell, and rise Ser Oswyk as knights in service to the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and knights of the Sunset Republic.”

    Within a matter of moments Tycos had Ser Jorah, the new made knight Cydwell, and his other commanders in position. Spearmen in mimicry of Unsullied Spearmen formed the front ranks of their lines. A shield wall protected their archers. The field on all sides hide spiked ditches and Tycos had a few more tricks up his sleeve to deploy against the Dothraki. They all stood in silence, awaiting the Dothraki to charge them in thunderous fury. Tycos had hoped they were as angry as he had heard. Anger makes you stupid, and no one ever accused the Dothraki of being rational. Soon they could hear the sound of hooves from the west. 

    Tycos was no fool however, he made sure to guard his southern approach as well just in case the Dothraki decided to play coy with him. Soon, thousands of horselords could be seen riding towards them. Tycos and his commanders were just behind the archers, Addam Marbrand was in front of the shield wall with the spears to command there. “Ser Jorah you know the Dothraki. What should we expect?” He rubbed at his grey stubble. “They will charge us, archers mounted on horses will fire a volley of arrows, turn and ride away, firing arrows all the while. You must not take the bait. They will want you to chase them, the moment you fall into their trap they will surround your men and destroy them.” _As I thought._ Tycos nodded. Ser Addam yelled out a command. “Spears out.” The men let out a shout and lowered their spears. The Dothraki was almost within fifty yards now. Ser Addam looked to Tycos and Tycos signaled to Edmure. Ser Edmure gave the command. “Loose the catapults on the bastards.” Hundreds of catapults thrummed and it wasn’t boulders that flew from them. Thousands of large caltrops rained from the sky. Horse and man alike fell from the spiked steel digging into the legs of the horses causing screams and shouts of pain from the enemy. Still, the riders came. Ser Addam was shouting commands and the men tightened formation locking their shields. Next Tycos saw the Dothraki riding into the spiked ditches, well hidden by shrubbery and filled with yard long wooden stakes. Many more began to fall. The ditches were only spaced two feet apart. The Dothraki could only pray to whatever gods they believed in that they could get in close enough to fire from their bows. Tycos saw the Dothraki bowmen drawing arrows to their bows. “Shields up.” The shield wall protecting his archers soon found arrows falling on them but the shields protected most of them when the archers took shelter. Bryce and Rolland looked to Tycos and he nodded to them. “Knock, draw, hold.” 

    While the Carons commanded the archers, Ser Addam shouted a command to the spearmen. The Dothraki who made it through the trap were about to collide with the rank of spears before them. “Thrust.” Horses shuffled in anguish as spears took them in the belly. Riders fell from their horses in the commotion. “Again.” The spearmen did as Ser Addam asked, the spears piercing flesh of man and horse alike. Bryce and Rolland Caron gave the order to fire and thousands of arrows descended from the sky. Archers of the Dothraki wheeled and retreated as they returned with arrows of their own. “We have them. Come on men.” Tycos shouted Ser Addam down. “No, we hold here. They are not broken.” The horselords gave every appearance that they were, but Ser Jorah was right. They were battered, but not broken. _Now we will see whether or not we will see the sunset._

   


	16. Tycos III (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Vaes Dothrak concluded.

There was a shout from Ser Addam. “Spears out, here they come again.” The Dothraki had smashed into their center column now ten times. Ten times the men held. The losses for the Dothraki had to be horrendous. Corpses of man and horse alike filled the battlefield in such great numbers that it was possible to navigate the field without touching the dirt. Tycos noticed their own dead piling up as well. The Dothraki bowmen were taking a heavy toll on their archers who could not hide under a large kite shield like the spearmen. Ser Jorah cut through the shouting. “They’re not going to strike in the center again. They will probe, hit us two sides at once.” It was true, the Dothraki wheeled their horses and split into two different units heading east and west. “It doesn’t matter, they will find a wall of sharpened stakes and men in reserve on our right and left flank.” Tycos called Cydwell to him. “Ride south with the escort I gave you. Now is the time.” Ser Jorah was incredulous. “How? And why? They could be killed, we don’t know for sure if they will do as I say. Regardless of that, if another Dothraki army attacks from the south, our men riding north could be taken in the rear, cut off, and destroyed.”  _ If they were fighting for spoils they would.  _ Tycos called the other new made knight in his service over to him. There was an ulterior motive to knighting Cydwell and Oswyk. Tycos now had two new men, loyal to him. “Oswyk, take the men, grab the torches, and fire the places I marked on the map.”  _ Ah, the confused look I often see on Ser Jorah’s face.  _ “Torch what exactly?” 

“Remember how I said anger makes you foolish, and rash? Well, certainly when the Khal and his blood riders see their sacred city with a plume of smoke rising in the sky they will spit blood and urgently try to save their place of worship.” For once Ser Jorah was quiet for a moment. He turned white but a few moments later regained his composure. “N-no… You can’t do it, we will be cursed in the eyes of gods and men.” Tycos had no time for his insolent behaviour. “Tell me why we should be merciful to a race of men whose sole purpose in life is to destroy great civilizations, rape and enslave women and children, and revert all of our cities back to dirt and grass?” Ser Jorah had no answer to that but that didn’t stop him from speaking. “You’ve condemned us to a horrible death, the Dothraki…” “Are a plague upon the continent of Essos. I am not a monster, Ser Jorah, but of all the people in the world, they deserve a fate worse than Volantis, and New Ghis. Do I want to kill innocents, women, and children especially? No, but I swear by all the gods that if I had to kill a million Dothraki to save ten thousand of my countrymen then I’d do it without hesitation.” Ser Jorah didn’t reply. Tycos raised a hand, dismissing Ser Jorah. He called Ser Addam over to him. “They’re going to strike us again, shore up our right and left flanks. Take men from the center to do this, I want to hold my reserves back.” Ser Addam didn’t look like he liked the idea of weakening their center line but he was more inclined to obey with his liege lord’s son without issue. He turned to Tycos before executing his order. “If they see our line is weakened they most likely will take advantage of it.”  _ I would expect nothing less of them.  _ “See to it Ser Addam.” 

  
  
  


A few hours had passed. There was still plenty of daylight left for the Dothraki to take advantage of and soon the sky was darkened by the smoke behind the men. Once Oswyk had all of the fires lit the thunder of horses could be heard roaring towards them. Tycos wasted no time. “Ser Jorah take the right flank, I’ll hold the center, Ser Addam has the left.” Ser Jorah spurred his horse without reply towards the right. Tycos galloped to the center. “Hold the line men. Fear isn’t your worst enemy. You might think it hinders you but it will keep you alive. Do not break, I don’t care if you see a million Dothraki in the field before you, do not break. I promise you, fleeing the field will not spare you. These Dothraki will not care one fig whether they kill you from behind or if they look you in the eyes. You are the men who stand between the destruction or salvation of our army. You might bend, but you will not break.” The men stamped their spears. “Let us show them how Milk Men fight.” A young man turned to run. Tycos jumped off his horse. “And what are you doing?” “I didn’t join up for this.” Tycos put a hand on his shoulder. “I understand you’re afraid, but I promise you that a death from an arakh would be a mercy compared to what will happen if you don’t fall back into line.”

Just as Ser Addam predicted, the horselords saw the center was weak compared to the right and left and chose to strike there again. Cydwell, no Ser Cydwell arrived next to Tycos. “Do you trust me, Ser?” Cydwell nodded. “Tell Edmure to fire the pots, and to be very careful.” The lad looked like he was searching for words. “What is it?” “What’s in the pots, my lord?” Tycos smiled. “My father referred to it as pig shit. Hurry now, they’ll be on us soon.” The Swan and Caron brothers commanded the archers. Their arrows could hardly be seen through all the smoke. The Dothraki had adapted to the ditches and caltrops but the arrows dug into them without mercy. Dothraki fell all over. “Shields locked, spears out!” 

Tycos had waited until the last possible moment before giving the command. The arakhs of the Dothraki bit into the hands and arms of the spearmen. “Fall back in good order.” The spearmen backed up ten paces and the line had a crescent shape to it now. A thrum could be heard and soon the sky was filled with flaming clay pots. Next thing they knew, the field before them erupted in jade green flame. It wouldn’t destroy the Dothraki horde but many burned in the fires that engulfed them. Ser Oswyk had came back from Vaes Dothrak. “My lord.” “Tell Ser Jorah and Ser Addam to attack the Dothraki. They have permission to break rank.” The Dothraki that managed to get in front of the fires found themselves surrounded with a rank of shields to their front and a wall of fire behind them. They were quickly killed or captured. Tycos yelled to Ser Oswyk. “Go tell Lord Edmure to cease fire.” Soon the clay pots were nowhere to be seen. It was midday but you would never know it from all the smoke in the sky. The Dothraki had no other option but to wait on the wildfire to be snuffed out. At this moment Tycos was alone in his command. “Reserve to the front of the center column! You men up there did great, fall back in an orderly fashion! We have earned a respite right now but they will attack again.” Ser Oswyk had appeared once again. “Ser Tycos? You’d put the green boys in the front line?”  _ I would.  _ “It might be a mistake. We’ll see here in a few minutes when the fires calm down.” Tycos didn’t think it was however. A rider rode up to Tycos. “My lord, Ser Addam and Ser Jorah attacked their flanks but were repulsed.” Tycos rubbed the stubble on his chin. It had a blondish red colouring. “Very well, tell them to maintain their positions on the right and left.” The rider quickly left them there. Tycos felt a cold droplet fall on his face. “It’s starting to rain.” Tycos didn’t need to be told that. “Alright boys, we’re going to be fighting much sooner than we thought, lock your shields, and stand by!”

After a few moments the wildfire being quenched created a wall of smoke that completely obscured the field before them. “My lord, do you..” “Yes I hear it.” Tycos turned to Ser Balon. “Get your archers ready, they are coming.” Ser Balon rode towards the archers behind the reserve of shields behind them. “Archers knock, draw, hold.” Tycos turned around. “Spears out!” Spears lunged forward. Ser Balon bellowed. “Loose!” The arrows could not be seen but they could be heard whistling through the air. Through the smoke emerged a horde of Dothraki. Some of them fell, falling from the ditches dug into the ground. Others fell from the corpses spread across the field. There was a loud crash as the Dothraki reached the center line. Spearmen began to fall, the screams and shouts of agony mixed with the sound of steel and wood as the Dothraki fought the line. “My lord, our men are breaking.” It was true, as Tycos knew it would be. “Should we send in the reserves?” “No, they stay where they are.” Ser Oswyk was confused. Tycos knew he wouldn’t argue though. The center line was being pushed more and more towards the shield wall. Tycos and Oswyk had to fall back as well. The brothers Swan and Caron adjusted the archers to compensate for the distance closed by the Dothraki. Ser Oswyk was as white as a ghost. Tycos snapped him out of it. “Send two riders, one to Ser Jorah, and one to Ser Addam. Tell them to attack the Dothraki flanks when Ser Cydwell arrives on the field, he should be here any time.” Ser Oswyk nodded.  _ This is cutting it close. We might be pressed against our own shield wall. _ Tycos had to do something. He spurred his horse forward towards the men holding off the Dothraki. The men started to cheer. “Lannister! Lannister! Lanni..” Tycos cut them off. “I don’t want you to cheer for me damn you. I want you to beat these savages!” The line began to stabilize. Tycos caught an arakh that was meant for his head with his sword, blocking another with his vambrace. The Dothraki that tried to take his head lost his in return. 

The other was impaled by a spearman. Tycos nodded to the man and saw him take an arrow to his throat. Tycos fought with his men, blood hidden within the fabric of his crimson cloak. Suddenly Tycos fell from his horse as a Dothraki screamer took out the creature’s leg. Thinking quickly, Tycos got up and turned his back to his men. The spearmen were being bunched together by the advancing horselords. “Ser Tycos! Ser Jorah and Ser Addam hit them in the right and left flank. As they attacked them, Ser Cydwell arrived with the other reserve of men you had on standby in Andalas!” Tycos saw Ser Oswyk had a horse for him as well. “We have them my lord. “Ser Oswyk, tell the commanders to call off the archers.” He nodded and rode towards the shield wall. Soon it was the Dothraki pressed together, the mass of men and horses shrinking as they fell in droves. “Lift your spears!” Ser Cydwell appeared now. “The Dothraki stopped fighting.”  _ We have won.  _ The men gave the Dothraki some breathing room. After a few moments a bloody Ser Addam and Ser Jorah appeared. “Ser Jorah, you speak Dothraki, tell them to send for their leader.” Ser Jorah shouted at the first Dothraki he found. The Dothraki still kept their blades out. “Why do they still have their weapons?” Ser Jorah had the answer. “They are shamed. They will cut their braids out as a sign of submission.” Ser Jorah waved a hand towards a man that had to be their Khal. Tycos and Ser Jorah approached him. “Tell him to keep his braid.” Ser Jorah translated back and forth. “He says he can’t, they were defeated.” “Tell him that was nothing but a skirmish. Tell him I wish to offer him terms of alliance.” “Khal Bhaka says he would sooner die than fight with us after we destroyed their sacred city. I told you as much.” The leader of the Dothraki lifted his arakh. He said something and Tycos didn’t need a translation for the hatred in his voice. “He says had the battle brought you two together that you would be a dead man.” Tycos pulled his sword out of his sheath. “Tell him to do it then.” 

Ser Jorah had the expression as if a hot poker had buggered him. “That’s folly, what are you thinking?” Tycos ignored Ser Jorah and walked towards Khal Bhaka. “Try me.” The Khal didn’t need a translation either. His arakh whistled as he launched a down cut meant for Tycos’ head. He caught it. Khal Bhaka swung at his hip, it was parried, aimed for his armed and was parried. Left, right, down, slash, thrust, everything was blocked or dodged. Ser Jorah had always said most Westerosi would not match the average Dothraki in speed alone but Tycos seemed to break that assumption. Khal Bhaka was beginning to show frustration. Mainly because Tycos had a thin smile on his face. “My turn?” That question caught Khal Bhaka off guard even though he couldn’t understand what he said. Tycos blocked a cut and began to rain down blows on the horselord. A slice to the chest, a cut to the head, and a thrust to the thigh. Suddenly Tycos stopped and backed away. “Tell him he does not need to die. Tell him I want to show him something.” When Ser Jorah translated what he said the Khal seemed as if he refused. “He says he will go with you but it changes nothing.” They walked for a few minutes together. The reached Vaes Dothrak. Ser Jorah and Khal Bhaka were incredulous. The city was intact, not so much as a single tent had been burned. “You told me you would kill every man, woman, and child and put the city to the torch.” Tycos smiled. “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Plus I knew that the Dothraki would try to get here as fast as possible if they knew their city was under attack.” Tycos turned to Khal Bhaka and extended an arm towards him. “Tell him it would be an honour to fight as an ally to such a great warrior. Ser Jorah regained his wits. After he was done Khal Bhaka looked Tycos in the eye, and clasped his arm with his.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us play a game. What battle was that partly inspired by?


	17. Jon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Tyrion plan their next moves and Jon visits his family.

 

The hall was quiet. Fires raging in the hearths as Jon ate his supper with his wife and children. Dany’s time was very close. Jon and Daenerys would soon have another Prince or Princess to secure the succession. These days being King or Queen of the Seven Kingdoms didn’t mean as much as it did in the past. They had a certain amount of power and respect but now the Seven Kingdoms were a republic and ruled by senators along with Tyrion, Daenerys, and himself. “You would never know you were a Targaryen.”  _ I’ve never felt like one.  _ “What do you mean?” She clasped his hand into hers, she gave him a smile. “It’s not a bad thing.” Their children Rhaenys and Daeron ate with them. “Father, when is Daeron to wed?” Daeron shot a glance to his sister. “Soon he will wed Dalla Lefford. Right now Lady Alysanne is pinned at the Golden Tooth.” Daeron chimed in. “When are you leaving again?” Jon looked thoughtfully at his children and to Daenerys. “I suppose whenever the seas are safe enough for travel. The Narrow Sea is still a dangerous place. Even with Braavos, even with Theon Greyjoy and Paxter Redwyne winning victories over the enemy. Perhaps I will remain in Westeros. Euron Greyjoy is a serious threat and I may need to deal with him personally.” Daenerys surprisingly agreed with Jon on that count. “You should take your dragon and bring fire and blood to the enemies of justice.” Jon had never been comfortable with using dragons in war. He supposed a degree of fear was needed but he could never bring himself to burning men alive. “Might be it will come to that. Or Ser Daven and the other commanders will deal with him.”

“Tyrion is on his way here as we speak. He says we have a great diplomatic mission in the Summer Isles. I don’t know what he has planned but he is very intelligent, I’m sure he knows best.” The rest of the night was spent walking the gardens of the Dragon Keep in the cool air. The Citadel of Oldtown hadn’t declared summer at an end but these days the seasons seemed to be on a more predictable trajectory. It seemed like every year around the ninth or tenth moon the weather would start to change. “I wish you didn’t have to go.” Daenerys was the type of person who needed companionship. She hadn’t taken kindly to the fact that Jon and Brandon were risking their lives fighting another major war. “I have a duty, Dany. I might know nothing, but I know the republic needs both Tyrion and myself to guide it.” “For years I’ve heard you mention that you know nothing. Why do you say that? I’ve never asked.” A sad smile appeared on his face. “It was something someone told me a long time ago.” “A woman?” He nodded. Jon wouldn’t change a thing, he loved his family and couldn’t imagine having them if Ygritte lived. Still the thought of her made him sad. “No woman means as much to me as you do, Dany. The past is the past. I love you, I love both of you as well.” He patted both children on the head. Once it was really late they walked the children to their bedchambers. Dany kissed the children and both Dany and Jon bid them good night. Jon and Dany walked to their own chambers in silence for a time. Jon was never a man of many words. Daenerys was the fire to Jon’s ice. Samwell had coined the term with his book ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’. Jon had always thought of it as a way to describe the marriage between his father Rhaegar and his mother Lyanna. The door to their bedchamber made a loud groan as it swung open. Dany took her black leather surcoat emblazzen with the Targaryen dragon off. She was completely nude but Jon knew they would join together as man and wife on this night. He took off his own brown studded jerkin and smallclothes. 

Jon approached Dany and kissed her while placing a hand on her swollen belly. Daenerys grasped Jon’s face while gently kissing his forehead. “I still have nightmares of that night, you know.”  _ I have nightmares of my own, Dany.  _ “And what night would that be?” Dany went to the balcony of their room. Cool air cause her braided hair to sway to the left and right. “The day we took King’s Landing. You don’t know, you can’t know how terrible I feel.” Jon had always been the ice that cooled Daenerys’ molten resolve. Tempering the worst impulses she felt. On that day, however, nothing would hold her back. Cersei had sent Qyburn to them once the defenders of the city were defeated. Jon and Tyrion both convinced Dany not to use dragons on King’s Landing itself. Jon can still remember Qyburn as he told them Cersei desired to surrender. Cersei met with them in the Red Keep. It was a trap, Cersei only desired the throne. Explosions throughout the whole city reduced the town to ash and charred corpses. Jon, Daenerys, Tyrion, and many other commanders may have fallen had it not been for Jaime leading Jon to a passage under the Red Keep itself. Dany, mounted on her dragon, seeing what Cersei had done, flew into a black rage. Soon Drogon and Rhaegal had reduced the Red Keep to a pile of molten stone. Civilians had been in the keep and with nowhere to go they were burned alive. Men, women, and children died in the fires. Many others in the explosion of Wildfire Cersei unleashed. Afterwards they would find out Jaime Lannister had been mortally wounded but he managed to throttle Cersei before dying. Cersei apparently had the same idea Jaime had and tried to leave the city through the secret passages of Maegor’s Holdfast. Jaime must have felt he had some responsibility because he could very well have escaped before the keep fell.  _ The deaths of so many has always haunted my wife.  _ “Dany, I remember well the events of that day. Yes I was furious with you, the Stark in me couldn’t fathom how someone would cause the needless deaths of thousands.”

Jon’s words didn’t help Dany feel any better. “But… You had lost so much. The realm you thought was on the side of justice failed to act on your offer. There is a certain part of me that understands why you flew into an uncontrollable rage. Losing so much, I promise you I’m no stranger to tragedy. If I lost you, if I lost the children, I don’t know if I could control my grief and anger. So yes, it is sad that innocent people had to die, but Cersei is the person who bears responsibility over that unfortunate day. You offered to allow her to live, and she deceived us all.” A single tear slowly rolled down her cheek. Jon wiped it away with a thumb. “I’m so grateful to have you, Jon. I feared for a time that you might abandon me when you found out your true heritage during the Great War.”  _ Had she not been with child would I have remained with her?  _ Jon and Dany had only learned the truth after she was with child. All the same Jon might have broke things off had it not been for Sam.  _ “She’s my aunt, Sam. I can’t remain with her, no matter the feelings we have.” “Jon, you once told me when we were in the Night’s Watch that you never lay with a woman because you didn’t want to father a bastard. You might not be a bastard anymore, but if you choose to leave her your child will be.”  _ In all of Sam’s timid demeanor, his self proclaimed cowardness, he had been right and Jon knew it. “I would have been a fool to leave you Dany.” Jon and Dany kissed. “Let us go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.” They fell asleep entwined together. Tyrion would be in New Valyria sometime the next day and Jon had a great burden of responsibility right now. Jon dreamt of days long ago back when he was still a bastard. Still a half brother to the Starks instead of a cousin. Robb was closer to Jon than anyone else had been. Catelyn Stark had always treated him as if he was the most evil creature in existence. Would she have felt different if she knew Lord Eddard wasn’t his father after all?

The next morning his family broke their fast together. Most of the day passed them by without any word of Tyrion arriving in the bay. Finally, near dusk, a courier found Jon with his family. “Your Grace, the Prime Minister is here in New Valyria.” Jon stood up abruptly. “Dany, Daeron, Rhaenys, I have to speak with Lord Tyrion at once.” Jon found Tyrion in his chambers reading a letter in his solar. “Jon, thank you for coming to me on such short notice. I fear we won’t be here long. There have been a number of developments.” Jon looked thoughtful. “What happened?” Tyrion handed Jon the letter. “Pentos is no longer in danger and the siege has been lifted? How did Brandon and Tycos reach Pentos so quickly?” “Because my son didn’t ride with Brandon. He sent all of his mounted soldiers against the sellswords and Dothraki outside the walls of Pentos.” Jon went cold.  _ That is only a fraction of the men the Volantene-Ghiscari had attacking Pentos.  _ “How did Brandon manage to defeat a force five times the size of his own?” Tyrion looked troubled. “My son came up with a diversion to draw away a large number of Dothraki. The playing field more or less even for Brandon when he arrived.” Jon was confused. “Tyrion, what’s wrong?” Tyrion cleared his throat. “My son attacked Vaes Dothrak. Not only did Khal Bhaka race to Vaes Dothrak, but many other Khals joined him. It is said with a force near one hundred thousand strong.” Jon saw how troubled Tyrion was and put a hand on his shoulder. “Your son knows what he is doing. Even if he finds himself on the wrong end of a battle he knows how to handle any situation.” Tyrion pulled out another letter from his desk. “We have no word of my son yet, but we received word from the Grand Admiral. Tyrion started reading the words of Lord Paxter Redwyne.  _ “The Gulf of Grief is completely in the hands of the Sunset Republic. The blockade is tight as a drum, however, Daario Naharis was betrayed in Meereen. Men claiming to be the Sons of the Harpy rose up and in the fighting.” _

Jon knew his wife had been close to Daario Naharis. She would not take the news well. Tyion read on.  _ “Now the three cities near Slaver’s Bay have joined forces and raise a large army as I write this. It will take a moon’s turn or more for them to be ready to march but they will swell the enemy forces when mobilized.”  _ Tyrion was troubled to say the least. “All of those cities, Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen all have large populations. We have Pentos, and according to your son, the sellswords have joined us. If we add Tycos’ men, Brandon’s, and the sellswords then we have as many men as the Dothraki. Even if my son wins against Khal Bhaka our forces will still take heavy casualties. There would be no chance for our armies taking Volantis or New Ghis, even more so with the cities of Slaver’s Bay.” The hour was growing late as they talked some more. Tyrion asked about Dany’s pregnancy and Jon the same for Sansa. Tyrion and Jon also drank plenty of wine. Tyrion seemed to have godlike abilities when it came to his tolerance of alcohol. Jon felt truly drunk by the time he decided to retire for the night. “I better get to bed, Tyrion. My wife will be angry with you if she notices you got me so drunk.” Tyrion chuckled. “I didn’t force the wine into your stomach.” Tyrion had a smile on his face but Jon could feel his despair over his son. “Good night, Tyrion. We will speak again in the morning.” Jon made his way through the hall leading to his bedchambers. Jon didn’t know how late it was exactly but he found the room dark, no candle lit. He took his clothes off and climbed into bed next to his sleeping wife. He kissed her forehead and within a few moments he fell asleep. After what felt like only a moment or two of rest Jon felt someone touching his shoulder. He yanked on the intruders leather jerkin. “Your grace! It’s me, your steward.!” Dany woke up in the commotion. “Speak Benton, what is it?” He cleared his throat. “It’s the Prime Minister, your grace. He request your presence.” Dany practically flew out of bed. “Why at this hour? Surely it can wait.”

Lord Benton Waters turned to Dany. “I’m sorry my Queen but Tyrion insisted on our King meeting him in the chambers of the senate as soon as possible.” Jon and Dany looked at each other. “He summoned the Senate? All of them?” Waters nodded. “He did.” Jon dismissed the Lord Steward. “I will be there as soon as possible. Dany, get some rest.” Jon and Dany kissed and Jon began to dress. “You still dress as if you are in the north. You may have Targaryen blood but you have that northern stubbornness all the Starks seem to possess.” Jon smiled. “I’ll stop the day you decide you don’t like it.” Dany gave him a look of pure lust. She grabbed his leather surcoat and began to take it off. “I told you Dany, I don’t want to harm the child.” She gave him a wicked smile. “Oh, this certainly won’t harm the baby.” She took him in her mouth. Jon returned the favor and by the time they were done Jon could see the sun coming up. “I better go, Tyrion likes to drink when he is bored and I made them all wait a lot longer than intended. Get some rest Dany.” They kissed one more time and Jon started toward the senate chambers. He found the Lord Steward Benton Waters standing guard at the door. “Your grace.” Jon gave him a pat on the shoulder and Waters opened the door. Waters raised a hand and spoke in a loud voice. “All rise for Jon Targaryen. King of the Sunset Republic, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm.” Jon took his seat on the dais by Tyrion. “Took you long enough, Jon.” He whispered as he spoke. “I ran into some trouble, that being my wife’s lust.” Tyrion smiled. “It’s quite alright, I had some Dornish wine to prevent boredom.” Tyrion pounded the table with a gavel to end the chatter between the senators. “I know it seems cruel to summon you this early my lords but there have been some developments that require urgent attention. First, we have some news from Essos. Bronze Yohn Royce was dispatched by my son, Ser Tycos. Royce, you may speak. 

The man in the ancient looking bronze armour spoke up. “The Field Marshal, Ser Tycos, has sent me to inform the Sunset Republic of the progress in the war against tyranny. As you might have known, Prince Brandon took all of our mounted soldiers to lift the siege of Pentos. He was successful according to Magister Illyrio Mopatis and the Prince of Pentos, Semaro Tempatis.” Suddenly the hall grew loud with all the chatter between the surprised senators. Tyrion hammered the gavel down again. “Continue, Lord Royce.” He nodded at Tyrion and Jon. “Success was achieved in large part because Ser Tycos provided a diversion that had drawn the Dothraki away from Pentos. Our Prince made good time as his whole force was mounted and he smashed the Volantene-Ghiscari army and their sellsword allies.” Byron Crakehall interrupted Royce. “How did the Field Marshal manage to draw the Khalasar away from Pentos?” Bronze Yohn spoke without hesitation. “Ser Tycos Lannister surrounded the sacred city of the Dothraki, Vaes Dothrak. Khal Bhaka, fearing the city would be destroyed took all of his men and started riding east in great haste. Prince Brandon had taken a different route to avoid running into trouble.” Marlon Hightower asked the question Tyrion had dreaded. “And what of Tycos Lannister?” He was looking at Tyrion when he asked that question. Royce didn’t waste any time. “I was not at the battle. I was commanding the small force of men guarding the ships from a possible land attack, however, I do have someone who was at the battle. I will let him speak to you.” Royce called on the Lord Steward to send in the soldier in question. Tyrion was nervous but asked the question he dreaded. “Tell us your name, lad, and tell us what happened.” The boy was as nervous as Tyrion. “I am Ser Cydwell Tarly. I was squire to our commander, Ser Tycos. I had the honour of being made a knight by our field marshal.” The hall grew loud again. Tyrion had to once again slam the gavel down. “Go on, Ser.” 

Before the boy could speak Jon spoke to him. “I know your mother and father really well. Anything you need, let me know. Your father is honourable and I have no doubt you are as well.” The boy turned red a little but thanked Jon and continued. “Ser Tycos had us fire the grasslands to prevent the Dothraki from being able to properly feed their horses. He had said that the Dothraki’s greatest strength could also be their greatest weakness. He also had us dig deep spiked ditches to trip the horses up when the Dothraki attack. Caltrop scattered all throughout the field also hindered them. When the horselords finally arrived, they found Vaes Dothrak completely encircled without hope of receiving food. Ser Jorah had objected, especially when Tycos said he would put the city to the sword and raze the city. Ser…” Jon cut him off. “He murdered innocent women and children?” Tyrion had a look of horror on his face. Cydwell continued. “He said the Dothraki would most likely make a stupid mistake if they thought their city and people were being destroyed. He was right, and gave Ser Addam Marbrand and Ser Jorah command of the right and left flanks while he commanded the center. He also had the lords of the Dornish Marches commanding the finest archers of Westeros. The Dothraki fell into his trap blindly and fell by the thousands. Ser Tycos also commanded Edmure Tully to launch the catapults at the Dothraki and using Wildfire, prevented the Dothraki from charging over and over again.” Jon and Tyrion were not strangers to Wildfire. Jon hated the stuff after what happened to King’s Landing. Tyrion had destroyed thousands with the use of the volatile stuff. The boy kept talking about the battle. “Eventually the fires died out. Ser Tycos commanded Mormont and Marbrand to flank the Dothraki and he put our reserves in the center column. Green boys mostly, he knew the horselords would make short work of them. He commanded a brilliant rear guard manoeuver to maintain orderly ranks while falling back. It was all a trap.”

Jon knew where this was going. It had happened to him as well when he fought against Ramsay outside the walls of Winterfell. Tyrion knew about such tricks as well. Robb had tricked Tyrion’s father at the Battle of the Green Fork. Robb’s men died or were captured but Tywin was unable to warn Jaime Lannister about the trap and he was captured with his forces routed. Cydwell Tarly woke him from his daydream. “I had been south of the fighting with a force of men Tycos wanted held back for some purpose. Ser Oswyk summoned us to the battle and the Dothraki had no means of escape. They finally surrendered, they wanted to cut off their braids as a sign of defeat and respect. Khal Bhaka even fought Tycos in single combat, neither of them died and to our astonishment Tycos made an alliance with the Dothraki.” For once the hall was silent. Of all people, Jon was usually the last to speak but he was the first this time. “So how many Dothraki joined their forces to ours?” “Sixty thousand at least, maybe more.” Tyrion had heard enough of the tale. “It seems we have evened the odds a bit. Volantis is now in a terrible situation. I will let my son decide what to do. Your grace, we need to sail to the Summer Isles as soon as we can. I have also spoke with my cousin, Ser Daven. Asha Greyjoy has taken back the Iron Islands. Euron Greyjoy is by no means defeated but Asha Greyjoy is sailing to the Cape of Eagles and plans on attacking his fleet while Daven attacks by land. My cousin is raising an army in the Westerlands while Lord Garlan Tyrell and Princess Arianne Martell do the same in the Reach and Dorne. Does anyone have reservations about our plans?” Everyone seemed to agree with Tyrion about dealing with Euron. “I fear our King, Jon and myself will have to depart New Valyria as soon as possible. We have some diplomatic meetings with the Summer Isles to procure trade and arms.” Soon afterwards Jon and Tyrion dismissed the Senate and sat in the hall alone. “Well, I have us a ship, spend this day with your family, we leave on the morrow.” 

“I learned a long time ago to take your advice. Dany isn’t going to be happy, my children as well. They figured I would be here a lot longer. War is war, however, and I know how important this mission is, enjoy your day Lannister. We can have dinner together.” “I think you want our Queen to roast me alive, she won’t be happy about you leaving so soon.” Jon smiled. “I will see you tonight.” Jon walked through the courtyard and found his family playing, they had their dragons with them as well. The dragons were young, about the size of a large dog. Daeron had named his dragon Lancer, Rhaenys had named hers Lyannon, named for her grandmother, Lyanna. Jon took a seat next to Dany on a stone bench. “I have to tell you and the children about something.” Dany’s face showed signs of grief. “I leave with Tyrion in the morning. I really wish I didn’t have to go but our visit will be taken more seriously if a King sails with the Prime Minister.” Dany had tears in her eyes. “I know. I wish we could come with you.” Jon hugged Dany, lips kissing her ear. He whispered in it. “I would like that too, but it is far too dangerous, plus who would keep an eye on the capital while we’re gone?” Dany chuckled and Jon wiped the tears from her eyes. Dany stood up. “Daeron, Rhaenys, your father and I have to tell you something.” The children were upset but Jon promised he would see them soon. Later on that night they were eating with Tyrion. “You better keep my husband safe, Tyion.” He laughed at that. “I think I require safe keeping from your husband.” They all jested and talked of memories long ago. After supper Jon and Dany bid Tyrion good night and took the children to their chambers and wishing them a good night as well. Finally Jon and Dany made it to their room and fell asleep entangled with each other, Jon’s hand resting on her stomach. The next morning Jon and his family made it to the docks. After they said their goodbyes, their ship was sailing.  _ Let us hope we live long enough to see our unborn children. I will see you again, I promise. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my longest chapter but I hope it shows where everyone stands at the moment. Also I know some people wish to hear from some other characters we haven't explored yet. I promise there will be more familiar characters.


	18. Asha II

 

The sun was setting. The sky a pink and orange hue. The ships she saw through her Myrish lens shown a golden harpy on their sails. Some of the ships had Euron’s queer rendition of the Greyjoy sigil. A red hand over a golden kraken. Asha wanted to take Euron’s fleet unawares. Her fleet numbered fifty, smaller than the fleet under Euron’s command. “Give the signal.” Tristifer Botley was her second in command. Her ship sent out signals with flags letting her fleet know to load the scorpion and catapults. Asha split her ships up into three columns. She commanded twenty ships in the middle line. Rodrik Harlaw and Nute the Barber the right and left lines. Tris turned to Asha, she nodded. He gave the signal with the flags and the sky gave the appearance of a thousand shooting stars flying through the darkening horizon. If Euron was aboard Silence it would be the last time he set foot on a ship. Though outnumbered, Asha’s fleet took a heavy toll on Euron’s ships. The battle was fast and fierce. A scorpion bolt glided past her ship. One of her ships, Bloodlust, was aflame. Pots filled with pitch set many ships on both sides on fire. Before any serious damage could happen to her fleet, other ships arrived. Lord Garlan Tyrell arrived as promised. In the end, Euron’s ships were captured or destroyed but he was not found on them. Apparently the one in charge was Euron’s bastard Rafford Pyke. Asha was in the cabin of the Iron Victory, her uncle’s ship. Tris opened the door. “My captain, we have brought the hostage.” In chains walked a young man. He wore simple clothes and Asha didn’t see much of Euron in the boy. “Take a seat.” Without speaking the boy sat. “Some ale?” 

He eyed it with caution. “I know poison is a woman’s weapon it is said but please, if I wanted you dead, poison would be my last method of killing you. He took the flagon. They sat in silence for a few moments. Finally the boy broke words. “What do you plan on doing with me? If you mean to have me dead I would ask you to get on with it.” 

Asha had to smile, she grabbed the flagon of ale from Rafford Pyke. “As of right now there is no plan to execute you. We’ve ended Euron’s reign in the Sunset Sea. Your father is trapped in Westeros, with no hope of reinforcement. I want you to go and speak to your father.” The boy’s eyes grew suspicious. “Why would you even consider trusting me with such a task? I could easily escape, and what makes you think my father would ever consider surrender?” “You’re not wrong. I have a position of influence in the Sunset Republic. In return for your service the reward could be generous. If your father does not fall to reason I would want you to take up role in your father’s service. When the time is right, I would expect you to return and inform on Euron.” Rafford turned white all over. “You’d ask such a thing from me? To turn against my own blood.” “Victarion was your blood, your father’s blood. That didn’t stop him from committing the most dire of sins.” The boy took the flagon again and drank deep. “My father would spit on me for what happened today. How I allowed his fleet to be captured, but I will do as you ask. We can discuss my reward for this service afterwards.” _ Better make sure he lives first. _ Asha had no delusions when it came to her uncle Euron. If the King and Queen knew she was willingly allowing a hostage to go free they might be angry, Lord Tyrion as well. “Very well, cousin. You are a cousin, no matter whom your mother may have been. Anyways, I will give you three days. We heard Euron had the Golden Tooth locked in along with the Twins and Seagard. Tell Euron I want a reply within a few days of your arrival.” 

The boy nodded. “I will return.” Those were the last words she received from Rafford Pyke. Three days came and went, six, nine, and finally Asha gave orders to Tristifer Botley to land at Seagard. “I will give the order, captain.” Asha wasn’t certain the boy had been killed. Euron might well have just kept him to avoid a hostage falling into enemy hands.

Seagard was just a few days sail from where Asha was currently anchored. They reached the castle without issue. If the Mallisters let go of their grudge against the Ironborn they gave no sign of it. Jason Mallister rode out to meet them. “My lady.” Jason Mallister said in a flat voice. “My lord. Thank you for the warm welcome.” Jason seemed to grasp the sarcasm in her voice. She continued. “We took Euron’s bastard unawares. Captured twenty ships, put the rest to the torch. Euron won’t be leaving anytime soon.” Lord Mallister eyed her suspiciously. “What of the bastard?” Asha knew she would have to answer for letting Rafford Pyke free. “I sent him to parley with Euron. He’s either dead or rejoined with his father. My mistake either way.” She cut to the heart of her visit. “We are to take the host on the northern side of the Twins while Daven takes the south. Gather any forces you have, you are to aid me in the relief of the Twins.” Clearly Lord Mallister was not pleased by this notion. “I am to follow the orders of a woman? And an Ironborn woman at that!” She smirked. “You are, as I follow the command of Ser Daven. If I can obey him, you can obey me. Besides, these orders were given by our Prime Minister and our King. Do you want to take it up with them? Go ahead and send a raven, and I will wait. Of course, Lord Tyrion and King Jon might be displeased that you wasted crucial time trying to dispute their direct orders.” He cleared his throat nervously. “Very well. I will aid you.” They went out to the yard where men were training with ranged and melee weapons.

Lord Mallister waved a hand across the yard to indicate his men ready for action. “We had sent men with the Prince and Tycos Lannister. We were able to gather around a thousand men in the short time given.” She nodded. “That will work. It’s said that Ser Daven is at the Golden Tooth with ten thousand men. Word has spread that Ser Perwyn is leading a host from the east with near as many men.” Lord Mallister beckoned her to follow him. As they walked through the halls Asha gave him some more details of the upcoming fight. “All the men I have are naval units. They will guard the coast from any threat that Euron might send us. He is cunning and it wouldn’t surprise me to find out he had a fleet waiting to ambush us or to take back the Iron Islands in my absence. Lord Rodrik Harlaw leads my fleet right now.” Mallister raised an eyebrow. “We can’t hope to take this side of the river with so few men.”  _ Aye, I thought he might say that.  _ “We won’t be alone. Like I said, Ser Perwyn is on his way here. Lords Vance, Piper, and others as well. Euron will be trapped no matter which route he takes.” Lord Mallister was a little relieved by those tidings. “I have these rooms prepared for you and your party. We will feast in the hall at sunset. I must take my leave for now, we will speak at dinner.”

That evening in the great hall, Lord Jason accommodated Asha’s party handsomely.  _ I suppose our houses are tied together by the bounty of the sea.  _ Cod was served, as well as oysters, crab, and many other fish. Black bread, broth with onions and carrots and bits of beef. Wine, water, and ale filled their cups. After a few hours the mood in the hall gave no hint of a destructive war now looming in the heart of Westeros itself. Asha and Tris sat in the place of honour near Mallister and his kin. Asha leaned in close to Jason Mallister. “I know the Ironborn and Riverlords have had their differences in the past. That being said, we need each other if we are to beat my uncle and his slave trading allies.”

Lord Mallister raised an eyebrow. “We’ve indeed had issues in the past but I’m willing to look past all that. Ever since you gained control of the Iron Islands the raiding has been very rare. I’d like to hope the raids that do happen were unsanctioned by the lords of your lands.” She smirked. “It’s hard to rule people who look at themselves as a King upon their own ship, but yes, I have outlawed raiding our own domains.” To Asha’s total shock, Jason Mallister extended his hand. “We will aid you in every way.” Asha raised her flagon of ale. “To the Riverlands!” The rest of her party followed her rally cry. “To the Riverlands!” Jason Mallister raised his goblet of wine. “To the Iron Islands and their true lord, Asha Greyjoy!” The hall erupted in shouts and cheering. After the feast, Asha found herself laying in bed. “What are you thinking about Asha?” the heir to Seagard asked. Patrek Mallister wasn’t a typical Mallister from days past. He was a fast friend to Theon during the early days of the War of the Five Kings. He was fierce and managed to be one of the few who survived the Red Wedding. “It’s nothing. We march to the Twins on the morrow and I hope I didn’t make a mistake in trusting that bastard Rafford.” 

Patrek had an altogether different thought about the march. “The last time I was at the Twins I was a hostage, held in a dungeon.” He leaned in to bite her ear. “My father would geld me if he knew I was fucking a Greyjoy.” She laughed. “That small pink thing? I doubt he’d be able to find it. Just tell him you want a real woman, not the daughters of fishing villages.” She grabbed his manhood. “Oh, you want some more do you?” “Aye, my lady, I do.” The sky was already beginning to glow orange by the time they finished.  _ Looks like I’m going to have to roll the dice on this one. No time to find a wood’s witch or maester.  _ The sky was bright with the morning sun as they set off. The ground was caked in frost, the Stark words never held more meaning than in recent memory. 

When the Night King and his undead army were defeated, north of the Wall the lands that had been covered in snow for thousands of years began to thaw. All the seasons appeared within the same year. It was hard to get used to at first, but now everyone knew the last few moons of the year along with the first few of the new year were cold. Patrek rode next to her and Tris during their march to the Twins. Tristifer had warmed up to Patrek Mallister during the first few days of the march. They were talking with each other. “So you had family slain by Asha’s uncle?” Tristifer nodded. “I hope I’m the one to take his head, but I’m hardly the only person who has a score to settle with Euron. Asha witnessed him take her uncle, the Grand Admiral Victarion’s head.” Asha shot an angry glance at Tris, he caught the glare and gave her a pitiful look. Patrek cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it would appear he has made no friends around here. I’m sure the Riverlords want to claim his head as well.” Asha laughed. “Oh, he won’t get off that lucky, I assure you. I mean to take him alive. He killed my father, and I know you Riverlords hold no love for Balon Greyjoy, but he committed the worst kind of crime in kinslaying, and kingslaying. He killed his brothers, and we won’t forget that.”

The sun had set by the time their scouts reported back to them, less than a day’s ride from the Twins. Both Mallisters as well as Asha, Tristifer and other minor lords feasted in a large pavillion. “My lords, my lady.” The scout saluted them. “They have both sides of the river vested. I’d say at least five thousand on each side by our count.” Everyone seemed to take the news with indifference but for her. She stopped him before he could be dismissed. “My uncle, Euron. It is said he had a force at least three times that, I wonder, where are they?” He paled. “I.. we.. we saw what I report.”

Jason Mallister raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps we got their numbers wrong. Or perhaps he is trying to hide their strength.”  _ They don’t know him like I do apparently.  _ Tris knew as well. “No, Asha and myself have dealt with Euron, more than once.” Patrek chimed in. “So what are you saying?” “He is saying that my uncle is hatching something. Don’t let hatred cloud your judgement. My uncle is a lot of things, but he is clever. The Volantene-Ghiscari alliance put him in charge over here for a reason.” Jason looked to the scout. “You’re dismissed. Make sure my squire finds you and the other scouts a good meal and a few tents.” He nodded and left. Asha turned to Jason Mallister. “Do we have plenty of ravens?” “Aye, we do, why?” “We must send word to Riverrun, Casterly Rock, the Stormlands, the Reach, and the Vale. Anywhere enemies might be marching.” Patrek Mallister added his voice once again. “We can easily route the foe on this side of the river, while Ser Daven attacks from the south.” Asha wasn’t so sure. “He surely expects us to attack, I think we should wait.” The other lords disagreed with her. Jason chief among them. “All the more reason to deal with them quickly, they are not a threat by sea, you saw to that.” In the end she couldn’t dissuade them from marching to the Twins. They did send ravens as she requested. The next day they started marching again, Ser Daven was already outside the Twins on the opposite side it was said. When they reached the Twins they noticed something odd.  _ Aye, something is wrong here.  _ Jason and Patrek rode up beside her and Tris. “They are facing us, not the keep. It’s as if they… expected us.” Asha laughed.

  
  
  
  



	19. Brandon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brandon links up with Tycos after the battles they took part in.

Dawn was breaking as Brandon and Salam met in the camp. Outriders had warned them of a group of Dothraki approaching the camp. In truth, too small to pose a threat to Brandon’s men as long as Tycos was correct in assuming the sellswords had more to gain being allied with the Sunset Republic. As the riders appeared from the mist of the morning light, Brandon, his squire Leo Tyrell, and Salam were waiting fifteen yards from the camp. As the riders came closer, Brandon could see there were others with them.  _ Westerosi men? Is that Ser Jorah?  _ Salam was just as confused. “Why would a group of Westerosi be riding with Khal Bhaka?” Brandon had a stern look on his face. “I don’t know, let’s find out.” Sure enough, Ser Jorah was with them, as well as Cydwell Tarly. “My Prince, we bring word from your cousin.” Brandon greeted Jorah. “News is welcome. I hope you are in good health, Ser. Tell me what happened.” Ser Jorah looked to the Dothraki. Salam was very curious to see what happened as well. “Ser Tycos engaged the Dothraki in battle outside Vaes Dothrak. The city is safe now, it was all a ruse to draw the Dothraki into reckless battle and it worked. Many of us had warned him the peril he would face but he was brilliant and managed to outflank and surround the horselords.”  _ I knew Tycos was keenly intelligent in military matters but wow.  _

Salam was incredulous. “Without heavy horse, they managed to beat an army much larger? Dothraki at that? Why is it you ride with them, Ser?” Ser Jorah smiled. “The Dothraki were beaten, they formed a column in preparation to cut their braids as a sign of defeat.”

Jorah paused for a moment, licking his lips. “Leo, get them fresh drink and provisions.” Leo nodded and ran off at Brandon’s command. “Continue, Ser Jorah.” “Thank you, Prince Brandon. Just as the Dothraki were about to cut their braids, your cousin stopped them. He approached Khal Bhaka, the very man you see before me.” Jorah waved a hand to signal the Khal. Salam cut him off. “How is it the Khal still has a braid? How is it that he is among us and not a prisoner?” Mormont had an irritated look on his face. “If you’d let me speak I’d tell you. Ser Tycos Lannister told them they could keep their braids if they agreed to switch alliances. Khal Bhaka was angry at what he assumed was the destruction of his people’s sacred Vaes Dothrak. Ser Tycos and Khal Bhaka fought each other in single combat.”  _ Khal Bhaka is obviously still alive. Does that mean? No, Jorah wouldn’t be so jubilant.  _ “Ha, the boy was a fool to duel a horselord in single combat.” Jorah shot Salam a harsh scowl. “So foolish that he defeated him and let him live. He took the Khal to see Vaes Dothrak was unburnt. It was brilliant, all of it. We have gained the Dothraki and this war is as good as won once we march on Volantis and New Ghis.” 

There was a stunned silence for a moment. At this time, Leo appeared with some water and food. “How many men did we lose, Ser Jorah?” Jorah paused thoughtfully. “No more than a thousand, maybe less. The Dothraki lost ten times that, I can’t really explain all your cousin did but he was more prepared than we gave him credit for, I misjudged the boy.” Salam and Brandon glanced at each other. “Very well, Ser Jorah. Salam, I don’t know if you speak Dothraki but tell them I am honoured by their company and see that they have a moment to rest up before we head out.” Ser Jorah relayed the message before Salam could.  _ I had forgotten that he spent many years among them.  _ “Cydwell, see to the others with Leo.” Jorah chimed in again. “Ser Cydwell.”

Brandon smiled. “Knighted after the battle for valor I see.” The young knight smiled nervously. “No Prince Brandon, he knighted another and myself before the battle.” Brandon wasn’t sure why but supposed it was for a good reason. “Either way, rest up, we will continue marching in one hour.”  _ So the war is as good as won according to Ser Jorah.  _ Brandon wasn’t so sure but had kept that thought to himself. An hour came and passed and the camp was packed up and the men on the move. They were a three day ride from Tycos and seemingly had no enemies to worry about at the moment. The enemies of the Sunset Republic were far east under attack from Theon Greyjoy and Paxter Redwyne. The gods only knew what Euron was up to but he was outnumbered in any case. Three days came and passed and Brandon’s army arrived outside Vaes Dothrak. The two armies now formed one giant force and made camp. Tycos was waiting in his great crimson pavillion, reading a letter. He was in his golden armour and wore the cape all Lannisters were known for wearing. “My Prince, hope your campaign went well.” Tycos said as he bowed. “It did, like you said it would. I see you outdid yourself against the Dothraki.” Tycos smiled as Brandon took a seat. “I have something for you, Lannister.” Brandon unsheathed a sword.  _ Beautiful.  _ “Is that Valyrian Steel?” Brandon nodded. “Our fathers gifted them to us as a reward for leading the armies here in Essos. I have mine here.” Brandon unstrapped his sword belt and showed Tycos a black and red scabbard with a white dragon head pummell. The sword Brandon gave to Tycos was in a crimson scabbard with a golden lion head hilt with rubies for the eyes of the beast. “Beautiful.” was the only word his cousin spoke. “All the best swords have names. Like my father’s Longclaw or Ser Brienne’s Oathkeeper. “I already have one in mind. My father once told me he visited the Wall in Westeros. He saw what he could only describe as a fire in the night sky made up of many colours. This sword reminds me of that… Aurora.”

Brandon unsheathed his sword. “My mother wanted to rid the world of tyranny and I find myself fighting the same fight she had fought before coming to Westeros. She fought for freedom, and so will I. Freedom.” Brandon and Tycos were planning their next move when their commanders came into the pavillion. Salam, Ser Jorah, Khal Bhaka, Rourke Piper, and Ser Addam Marbrand, Ser Eddard Dayne, and both lords Caron, and Ser Edmure Tully arrived one by one. Tycos addressed everyone in the pavillion. “Thank you for joining us tonight. We have achieved a lot these past few months and now we must plan our next move. Do we take Volantis or do we march east to destroy our enemies in Qarth and Meereen?” The lords began muttering to each other. “Commander. We should take care of our enemies near the slaver cities first. Free up our fleets in the east.” It was Ser Addam who spoke. Rourke Piper and the Caron brothers agreed. Ser Edmure suggested taking Volantis. Ser Jorah scoffed. “Good luck, their walls are strong and they have control both sides of the Rhoyne.” After a few moments Brandon realized they were silent, looking to Brandon and Tycos. Brandon cleared his throat. “Winter is upon us. Although the climate here in Essos is relatively warm, Westeros is not, and food will be an issue before too long. Volantis is a strong city but poses no immediate threat to us. Honestly I don’t know where we go from here.” He turned to his cousin. Tycos stood up. “We will build siegecraft and surround Volantis on both sides. Lord Edmure or Ser Jorah, I don’t care which one of you it is but if Braavos is an ally to us they should send a force to blockade Volantis. The population in Volantis is larger than any city in Westeros, they have armies in the field they have been supplying. We can launch attacks on the city but my main focus would be aiming our catapults and trebuchets at their massive bridge. This isn’t a debate, this is my will. You’re all dismissed. We will march at first light.”

Brandon, Tycos, and Ser Jorah remained for a moment. “We could be the ones starved out.” “If Pentos and Braavos are our allies we will be well provisioned. It would be a folly to march through the Red Waste and both Greyjoy and Redwyne are not in the position to ferry us into Meereen or Qarth. If they were it would be a bloodbath. Volantis is the only logical target for now.” Ser Jorah grew thoughtful. “You know, I am the first person to admit I misjudged you. You have your father’s brilliance, and your grandfather’s keen military intuity, but I never knew how much you remind me of your mother until I saw Vaes Dothrak unspoiled and unburnt. That being said, I think you are wrong in this, commander.” Tycos turned his back and looked out into the night sky. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t ever want you to hold back any of your thoughts, you as well my Prince. What do you have to say about this, cousin?”  _ Why does he ask me? He knows I have total faith in him.  _ “My thoughts echo with yours. My question is what do you feel is right?” Tycos turned to face them. “If I thought this course is folly then I wouldn’t ask our men to do it.” Brandon and Jorah exchanged a glance. “Then I agree with you, commander.”

“I know better than to try and dissuade both of you. I’ve made my opinion known, but I will always do my duty and honour my house.” At that, they bid each other goodnight and Brandon made his way towards his grey pavillion. “Hello? What are you doing in here?” To his surprise, Brandon found a woman waiting in his tent. “Your sellsword captain sent me to entertain you. He said you were Prince of Westeros.” Brandon sighed. _ I wonder what he wants.  _ “That’s very kind of him, but no thanks. I have no wish to purchase a… excuse my blunt words but whore.” She giggled. “I’m not a whore. You’re so handsome, Prince Brandon.” The girl wasn’t naked but the silk gown she wore left little to the imagination. She certainly was beautiful but Brandon was not interested. “I’m promised to another.”

The girl seemed disappointed. “She wouldn’t know about us, but I’ll leave if I displease you.”  _ Now I feel bad. I’m going to kill that sellsword.  _ “Trust me, there is nothing wrong with you. Salam doesn’t know me well I’m afraid. Go to see Tycos’ great-uncle, he is fond of women. He is a great lord in Westeros and holds a high position in the military. He has a red and blue banner with a trout on his tent.” She left without a word and Brandon climbed into his bed. The next day came and after everyone ate their morning meal, they were all packed up and on the march. It would take a fortnight to reach Volantis, even longer to invest the city on both sides. Brandon marched at the head of the massive army, joining his cousin Tycos, Ser Jorah, Salam, and their other commanders. Khal Bhaka preferred to ride with his own forces and the light and heavy cavalry of the Sunset Republic marched with the Dothraki. Ser Edmure was with the baggage train making sure the supplies were moved in an orderly fashion.

The days passed peacefully as there was virtually no enemy between the allied armies of Westeros and Essos and Volantis. The Volantene-Ghiscari Empire was in a bad position and most likely had no idea the peril they were going to face. On the tenth day of the march, Volantis was within sight and they made camp for the night. The lords and commanders met one last night before the army was to separate and march on the other side of the river and Brandon went to enjoy one last night of rest he’d get but before he could drift off to sleep, he was summoned by Tycos.  _ What could he possibly have forgotten to tell us?  _ Brandon put his clothes back on and made his way to Tycos. When he entered Tycos’ tent, he noticed everyone on the war council sitting at the table. “What happened?” Tycos pulled out a letter and read it to everyone.  _ “There have been complications in the war against the tyrannical Volantene-Ghiscari Empire. Their overall naval commander, Euron Greyjoy has invaded Westeros.” _

Everyone in the tent began to mutter in low voices. Tycos continued.  _ “In a clever ploy, he took the Iron Islands and Asha Greyjoy sent a force to retake the islands in the Sunset Republic’s name. This was all part of a plan to allow Volantene-Ghiscari forces to land in the Riverlands. Asha Greyjoy defeated a fleet off the Cape of Eagles but could not prevent Euron from landing a large army in Westeros. Euron commands both sides of the Trident and it is feared he will control much of the Riverlands and possibly gain control of the Reach and the Stormlands. Forces are being recruited from across the realm but we fear Euron will act faster than we can mobilize. We will not fail in carrying out the will of the Prime Minister, and our monarchs King Jon and Queen Daenerys. Ser Daven Lannister.” _ Everyone in the tent seemed perplexed and unable to speak for a moment. Edmure always had an opinion on matters it seemed, usually ones that benefit him the most. “If your cousin is requesting aid, we must act. I can lead an army through the Riverlands and I know those lands better than anyone here.” Tycos put the letter down. “I saw nothing in that letter that indicates a need for more soldiers. I will not compromise our position here by trying to sail an army across the Narrow Sea, especially with winter setting in. Whatever Euron has planned will certainly take place well before we can stop him. My cousin is an able commander, he is thorough and most likely felt it was his duty to report this to not only the King but my father, and us as well.” Brandon was trying to gage Tycos’ feelings. He was hiding something. “Tycos, it’s for the best if we let our commanders rest. We can speak alone.” “Very well, you know the plan for tomorrow. We will split our forces and Salam will invest the western bank with a portion of mounted soldiers and footmen.”

 

After the tent was empty, Brandon cut straight to the matter. “So, what is it you can’t tell them?” Tycos had the letter in his hand and clinched it tight. “They don’t ask for an army, they ask for Edmure, and myself. The Seven only know why they ask for my great-uncle, most likely the Riverlords and their stubborn loyalty.” Brandon was confused by this development. His father had a saying he was fond of, apparently bestowed upon him by a wildling lover.  _ “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”  _ “Why can’t your father, or my father for that matter, take up that council?” Tycos put the letter down again. “They are not in Westeros, and they are not in Essos. They are in the Summer Isles. I’m not happy about this, but I will take a ship in the morning. You will be in overall command while I’m gone.”  _ I’m no leader.  _ Brandon said as much to Tycos. “Do you not know about your father? He was near our age when he became the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. He gained that post in part because he spied on the wildlings and lead the Night’s Watch against an attack on the Wall. He was the chief reason why Westeros isn’t ruled by the dead.”  _ I had not forgotten any of it.  _ “It’s all a well known history about my father.” “You are the son of two of the biggest heroes ever seen in Westeros. It’s in your blood, more so than my own. You were among the top of our class at the most prestigious military schools in the world. Stay the course, follow my plan, and you will succeed. We have Volantis within our grasp and outnumber them for once, almost two to one.” “If you say so coz. I won’t fail you.” Tycos extended his arm, Brandon grasped it. “Be safe, Tycos.” “You as well.” At that, Brandon left his cousin and best friend. He hoped it was not for the final time. The next morning, Tycos had already gone with Ser Edmure and Brandon was in charge of an army near one hundred thousand strong, marching on one of the most ancient cities in the world.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not a super exciting chapter I suppose but I don't want to turn this into a Die Hard film. I want to explain a war story as accurately as a real war plays out. Logistics and planning my friends.


	20. Sansa IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa meets some familiar faces at the Golden Tooth

  
  


Snow fell from the sky as Sansa ate the morning meal with her children in the large feast hall of the Golden Tooth. Alysanne Lefford and her children ate with them. Sansa still had a few months before her child was born and was comfortable at the Golden Tooth. Brienne of Tarth had left her lands to take up position as her protector again to which Sansa was very grateful. The children were playing around with each other as Sansa talked with Lady Alysanne. “I suppose you are very excited for your daughter. It’s not often that a house marries into royalty.” She smiled at Sansa. “Yes, my Dalla is dreaming of her betrothed. Picturing him as the Dragonknight and counting the months until she can wed him.” Sansa could remember a time when she felt a flutter in her stomach at the thought of marrying a future King. She could also remember how she was treated when he became King.  _ It feels like a thousand years ago. This girl before me is the same girl who stood in Winterfell, dreaming of a better life in the south as Joffrey’s Queen. I was never so happy, until that drunken sot Robert Baratheon died. My happiness died with him, and my father. _ Sansa didn’t think this would happen to Dalla of course but it brought back painful memories.

  
  
  


A youth entered the hall. “Yes, Carmyn?” asked Alysanne. The boy was breathless, sweat pouring from his brow. “Lady Alysanne, Ser Daven Lannister.” Ser Daven entered without waiting for a reply. “Lady Alysanne, Lady Sansa. News from the Riverlands.” A shiver went up Sansa’s spine. “It’s the young lord, Robert Arryn. He marched an army through the Bloody Gate.” Sansa grew confused. “That’s good, right?” He shook his head. “Lady Asha Greyjoy and the other lords thought so, but that was not the case. They attacked our forces. The only lords to actually commit forces to our armies from the Vale were the houses Royce, Hunter, Waynewood and Belmore. With their armies depleted, nobody stood to resist them. It’s not known why but one can imagine that Euron and our enemies made an offer they found too lucrative to pass up.” Lady Alysanne gently put a hand on the children. “I need you to give us some privacy to speak with Ser Daven. Sansa, it would be best if you did the same with your children.” Sansa did and it was just the three of them in the hall. Alysanne turned to Ser Daven. “Tell me everything.” He cleared his throat. “We no longer control the opposite side of the Twins. Asha and the Mallisters fell back to Seagard where they are virtually under siege. I wish that was all. Somehow Euron has made it into the Westerlands. I fear they may and try to encircle us here. It’s no longer safe. Gather what you can and we must fall back to the Rock.” Lady Alysanne smiled. “I’ve been here my whole life, I won’t leave now. My children will follow you and I will keep a small garrison here. This castle is formidable, Euron won’t take it without the spilling of much blood.” Ser Daven was exasperated. “Do as you wish, I must protect the wife and children of my liege lord. “Lady Sansa, start packing anything of worth. We will have to move quickly. I don’t know the numbers but we have an army of ten thousand here. More than enough for an escort.” Sansa nodded and made her way to her chambers. Catelyn and Jaime were confused by it all.

Lady Brienne stood guard at the door. She was the heir to Evenfall on the Sapphire Isles but preferred to protect Sansa and her family. “Follow me, Brienne. We need to prepare our things and make our way to Casterly Rock.” She nodded without saying a word and began the task. “Jaime, Catelyn, I must pack anything of value to take with us. You both should get some rest, we leave on the morrow.” She could see the fear on their faces at the prospect of being attacked. Jaime put on a brave face. “Mother, are we in danger? Do you think Euron will kill us?” Sansa was horrified. “No! No one is going to die. This is just a precaution to ensure our safety. He most likely will avoid following us. He can’t attack any other castle here in the Westerlands without running into Ser Daven and in order for him to attack he must take this castle. The Golden Tooth is well defended, you have nothing to fear.” She kissed Catelyn and Jaime good night and went to pack some clothes and other items. It was the hour of the wolf by the time Sansa and Brienne were done. “Go get some rest, Lady Brienne. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” “Yes, my lady. I will be ready at sunrise.” Lady Brienne left the room and Sansa laid in bed, rubbing her belly. In a few months, her child was due. She hoped Tyrion would be able to witness the birth of their next child.  _ A dream of spring.  _

After what could only have been three hours there was a knock on the door. “Yes? Who’s there?” “It’s Lady Brienne, Ser Daven wishes to speak with you.” Sansa was in a silk gown. “He may enter.” Ser Daven was clad in armour. He shied away from the sight of Sansa in her grey silk gown. “I.. My lady.. There’s…” “Please, Ser Daven, it’s nothing. Continue.” He cleared his throat. “Euron is two leagues from here. I fear you will have no choice but to remain here. Your husband, my lord, wouldn’t want me to risk putting you or your children in danger.” Sansa wasn’t keen at military matters but had to ask. “It may be dangerous, but are we in danger here?” 

Ser Daven looked down for a moment then met her eyes. “I’m lending the garrison here at the Golden Tooth a thousand footmen and five hundred archers. That will be enough to at least endure a siege. There is enough food to last the inhabitants here three months before we’d have to start butchering the horses and other animals. After I lend my troops to Lady Alysanne that will leave me with eight thousand. We are unsure of the amount of men Euron actually has but assume it could be as high as fifteen thousand men. Your cousin, Robert, ensured that Euron Greyjoy could rally more men without committing them to taking the Twins.” A chill went up Sansa’s spine. “Thank you for telling me, Ser Daven. See to it that Lady Brienne finds a room for you to sleep.” She hugged him and he returned the hug awkwardly. After all these years they both developed a strong bond. At first the people in the Westerlands weren’t keen on accepting a daughter of Winterfell into their lands but now she was well loved and respected, thanks to Tyrion. “Thank you, Lady Sansa, I will.”

The next day Sansa stood on the battlements as a cadre of men marched through the portcullis of the Golden Tooth. Sansa saw Ser Daven and thought she saw someone well known to her.  _ Sandor?  _ Her children were playing with some of the other children in the courtyard. Sansa made her way down to get a closer look. Sure enough, it was Sandor Clegane. “Little bird, it looks like you’re going to lay a clutch of eggs.” Sansa smiled and hugged him. He returned the hug. “What are you doing here? I’d have thought you to be leading a host or defending your castle. “The Imp wants his she-wolf and cubs looked after and Daven called for more men. My smallfolk went to Lannisport and Casterly Rock. If that whoreson Euron decides to take my keep he will get nothing but an empty useless keep.” Ser Daven approached them. “I put him in command of the forces here.” Sandor’s mouth twitched. 

“You put nobody in charge here, Lannister. I came because I wanted to and that old woman has a stout castle and strong wine.” Ser Daven shrugged and smiled. “Whatever you say, dog.”  _ He hasn’t changed at all.  _ Sansa was grateful for that. Ser Daven had set up camp in a nearby village, ready to pounce of Euron attacked. Days went by without any word of the enemy. On the fourth day it was snowing when men spotted the enemy army marching towards the Golden Tooth. Sansa, Lady Alysanne, Brienne, and Sandor all watched from the walls. A servant that Sansa had cultivated a friendship with also stood next to her. She was an old lady, missing all but one of her teeth and dressed in simple clothes. She had a sharp beak of a nose and a wart by the corner of her lip. The old woman, who called herself Lady Crane, spoke to Sansa. “My lady, do you want anything of me?” “Yes, can you and Lady Brienne see to the children and make sure they take refuge in the keep. I doubt anyone is in danger right now but it will put my mind at ease.”

 

The day wore on without much excitement until the evening. There was shouting and shoving at the gates. Sandor was arguing with Lady Alysanne. Sansa felt compelled to find out why. “What’s going on here?” Sandor had clearly been drinking but he practically barked at her when he replied. “Your husband’s liel ally here thinks it wise to allow smallfolk in the keep. A shit idea, does us no good, does those peasants no good.” Alysanne turned to Sansa. “Their villages are being sacked as we speak, I can’t allow them to be murdered. What kind of lord sits in a castle drinking fine wine and filling their stomach while their people are robbed and murdered?” The hound laughed. “The kind who makes it through a winter siege. You won’t save these people by letting them in here to eat up all the stores. We have a three month supply.”

 

“Three months is plenty.” Alysanne replied. He laughed again. “In what world do you live in? Have you ever been through a siege, old woman? You had maybe that before my men got here, and now you want to let a hundred more mouths to feed into this keep. Little bird, you want your cubs to starve?” Sansa didn’t want anyone to starve. “I think Lady Alysanne knows what’s best for the Golden Tooth.” He didn’t say anything, he just shook his head, pulling out a wineskin as he walked away. Sansa didn’t want to make him angry but she couldn’t side with him on this matter. “Thank you, Lady Sansa.” “No need to thank me, we’re your guest here.” A procession of people began to make their way into the yard. Within a few hours at dusk there were tents everywhere in the yard. Sansa wanted to spend some time with the children before she went to sleep for the night. She read Catelyn parts of the book ‘Unnatural History’ which was one of Tyrion’s favorites. Jaime had asked about his brother and if the war was going well. He had wanted to squire for him but Sansa wouldn’t allow it. She was already reluctant in Tycos leading an army but in that Tyrion wouldn’t relent. Something was nagging at Sansa.  _ Why do I feel the need to apologize to Sandor?  _ She couldn’t let the matter go and sought out the Hound. She found him where she knew she would. Sitting in the great hall drinking with some soldiers. “Sandor.” He looked up. “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?” She crossed her arms. He sighed and looked at his drinking companions. “Bugger off, she won’t leave me alone until I talk to her. She’s a stubborn woman.” After they left the table she sat down. “I’m sorry about earlier, I don’t want you to think it’s because I think you’re wrong.” He shrugged. “You’ll be sorry when you and your children are eating horses, and when they’re gone, it will be dogs.” Her face must have gave away her thoughts because he just laughed. 

“It’ll never come to that if we’re lucky. Euron might be destroyed by Ser, and if not, well he won’t have the men to storm this place. I’m no great general but I don’t know why the squid came here knowing a Lannister army was in the Westerlands.” Sansa felt a chill in her spine.  _ It’s nothing, a foolish fear.  _ Even if it was a silly thought, she felt compelled to tell Sandor. “What if Euron is up to something?” The Hound’s mouth twitched a little. “And what might that be?” “What if he wants Ser Daven to stay in the Westerlands, distracted?” His face was serious for once. “I don’t know what he would have planned, little bird. He is clever, I’ll give him that. He might not be as clever as the Imp, I saw that first hand against Stannis, but he surely is a match for anyone commanding in Westeros.” She agreed with him. “My cousin, Robert, has defected to the enemy.” “This we know, little bird. It changes nothing. His forces won’t make it to the Golden Tooth and would get held up by Asha. Euron has unleashed surprise after surprise so we should expect he has something planned.” Sansa stood up. “It’s getting late, I’m going to get some rest.” As she walked away, Sandor called out to her. “Your son is on his way to Westeros.” She turned to face him. “He is?” “He is. There is a meeting planned with the senate and he is coming to sort out Euron if we fail to do so.” She didn’t know if she was joyful or fearful.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are being set into motion and I plan on exploring some groups of people we hear about in the books but never really get to explore


	21. Tyrion IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter but like I said, I want to explore a dynamic we didn't see much of in the book.

Tyrion and Jon disembarked off of their ship. The sun was bright and the air thick, and humid. The heat in the Summer Isles had a fierce reputation. The dark skinned people that inhabited the archipelago were an isolated people, hardly ever venturing to Essos or Westeros. A man wearing a cloak of many coloured feathers greeted them. He spoke the common tongue. “Welcome. Your journey was safe, yes?” Jon simply looked at Tyrion, Tyrion smiled back at the grinning man. “It was. You know why we’re here?” “I do. Please, come with me.” Jon was clearly unfamiliar with such a place. “So this is their principality? Not a very large realm, I don’t know what kind of military aid you expect.” Tyrion and Jon were on the main island of Walano to meet with the rulers of the Summer Isles. “While military aid would be welcomed, the Summer Islanders don’t fight wars like we do in Westeros or Essos. They have wars to be sure, but none of their villages are sacked because they choose a designated battleground and almost turn warfare into a game of Cyvasse.” Jon was puzzled. “How is it they have maintained independence?” Tyrion smiled at Jon. “They have a special deterrent against invasion. You’ll know soon enough.”

They followed their guide into a path, a grove with what could only be the famed goldenheart trees on both sides of the path. “Tyrion, what’s carved into the trees?” “The people here record their history in those carvings. I think I should tell you this ahead of time while I have the chance, the people here do not view carnal relations the way we do in Westeros.”

Clearly uncomfortable, Jon couldn’t help but ask. “What?” “They view making love as an act to be celebrated and they all serve a fertility goddess in temples. What we would consider a whore house, they view as one honouring their gods, so please don’t call them that.” Jon was taken aback. “I wouldn’t!” Tyrion chuckled. They saw a temple up ahead. There were exotic looking vines draped over the walls by the steps leading to the entrance. “This way.” the guide lead them to a stairs leading to a second level. In the middle of the temple was a fountain, water pouring from a vase that a beautiful naked statue held. They reached the goldenheart doors and their guide introduced Tyrion and Jon. “With your permission, I preset the King Jon Targaryen and the Prime Minister Tyrion Lannister of the Sunset Republic.” Tyrion and Jon stepped forward. The guide waved a hand to the three people sitting before them. “This is the Prince of Jhala, Myanzho Baruqua. In the middle we have the Princess of Omburo, Masken Qhoqua, and finally the Prince of this island, Balaan Zhen.” Tyrion bowed. “It is an honour to meet you. The Summer Isles certainly live up to their reputation. This is my King.” Jon wasn’t sure how to address them. “Nice to meet you.”

Prince Balaan smiled and spoke to them. “I speak your common tongue. I will translate what you have to say. What brings you here?” Jon wasn’t entirely sure why they were here but Tyrion had a well-formulated response to the question. “Prince Balaan, Princess Masken, Prince Myanzho, I’m not sure if you know but the Sunset Republic is at war with Volantis and New Ghis. They forged an empire and want to rule not only Essos, but Westeros as well. Infact, they want to rule the world, I believe.” After Balaan relayed what Tyrion said he raised a brow. “We’ve heard rumblings from our merchants. We don’t want to join in this war, we don’t want to send our warriors to die in a land far away.”  _ You won’t have to.  _ “I can understand that.”

Tyrion had to explain their situation if he was going to get anywhere with these three. “You see my King right here? Jon, along with his wife, and along with many of the great houses in Westeros fought and died for you.” Prince Balaan was confused but translated what he said. “How did you accomplish this? We fought no war.” Jon did speak this time. “You didn’t fight it because we succeeded. If we had failed to defeat the Night King, the world as we know it wouldn’t exist. We defeated the army of the dead, thus we fought for you, no, we fought for everyone.”  _ Jon never lies, no matter how crazy the tale seems.  _ Tyrion reacted much the same way as these three rulers when Jon told him and Daenerys about the undead army marching on the south. “My King doesn’t lie. I assure you, I saw them with my own eyes. It doesn’t matter, however, we’re not here to have you fight for us. I want to strike a deal with you regarding your revered goldenheart bows and swan ships.” Prince Balaan couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “We don’t share our secrets with outsiders. This is something we can’t do.” Tyrion couldn’t hide his feeling of annoyance. “If we lose this war, they will cease to be secret in any case. I’m not asking for you to teach us your art, I want to buy them from you. I promise you, the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire will attack you once they’ve dealt with us.” That seemed to resonate with the Prince. He translated what Tyrion said and talked it over with the others. “How many bows would you need? How many ships?” “Ten thousand bows if you can spare it, one hundred ships. A lot to ask I know but we can work some kind of trade agreement.” Jon knelt to speak to Tyrion. “We came here for this?” “You don’t realize the advantage we’d have, they don’t seem like they are as advanced but their bows outclass ours and it’s not even close, only dragonbone outrange them and their ships are among the best in the world at quickly striking at a foe.”

 

The three rulers seemed to reach an agreement. “We can do the ten thousand bows and spare one hundred ships. What’s in it for us? Gold is not as valuable here as it is in your Sunset Republic.” “What would you want?” The Prince smiled. “Some of your famed steel blades, livestock, food from the fertile Highgarden land.” Tyrion thought that was a reasonable request. “We can permanently provide you food, the steel we can provide as a one time payment. We can lower tariffs on any existing trade as well.” Prince Balaan and the other two spoke with each other and seemed to agree to the terms. “A bargain we have, my lord.” Tyrion remembered something. “We leave on the morrow. I apologize but can I make one more request?” The Prince nodded. “May we see your maps?” Prince Balaan didn’t speak for a moment, he clearly wasn’t used to anyone asking favors like this, much less a man who stood as tall as a child. “You have a big appetite. We’ve never shared our maps with outsiders, and it’s something I cannot allow.” Tyrion shrugged. “Thank you for the warm welcome and the audience. We’ll make our way to our ship. The safest port from here is in Dorne. We’ll need the ships as soon as possible, the goldenheart bows can be loaded onto the ships we brought with us.” Tyrion and Jon bid farewell and made their way back to the ship.

“I hope these weapons are worth the journey we just made, Tyrion.” He smiled at Jon. “You’ve bent a bow before, when we leave you can try one out. The result will speak for itself.” Jon wasn’t so confident. “We spent a fortnight sailing here, and now we have to sail back without men that the senate assumed we were going to have when we left.”  _ Let them think what they want.  _ Once on the ship, Tyrion and Jon sat at a table in the captain’s cabin playing Cyvasse and drinking. Jon had some spiced rum while Tyrion drank Dornish wine.  _ I hate being in the dark. It’s been too long without word from Westeros, or Sansa and the children. Was Tycos well? _

It was late so both Tyrion and Jon retired for the evening. The next day Tyrion met his King on the deck. They were just losing sight of Walano when the captain approached. “Here, your grace.” Jon turned to see the captain holding a goldenheart bow and a yard long arrow. “Wow.” Tyrion smiled. “Give it a try, Jon.” Jon arched the bow, drew the fletching to his cheek and released. Jon and Tyrion watched wide eyed as the shaft fell into the water. “Well, Jon?” “You did well, Tyrion.” Jon was equal parts amused and amazed, the smile giving it away. With any luck, there would be no winter storms to slow them down. Tyrion knew the war was far from over, but with luck, they might have secured the very thing needed to win the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wars are often fought not only with men but technology.


	22. Tycos IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you notice but Daenerys has no POV chapters as of yet but I wanted to not only visit her but also a few other aspects of this story. I'm setting all the gears in motion here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A senate meeting

Snow fell upon the capital as Tycos stared out into the choppy waters of the bay. It was a rough journey across the Narrow Sea. Aside from the storms, his small escort had to dodge enemy ships from the Free Cities who’d joined the war against the Sunset Republic. Braavos was sailing a feel of their own to take Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh. A servant knocked on the door. “My lord, the senate meeting will be taking place very soon, Queen Daenerys will be there as well. “Very well, I’m ready.” Tycos wore the gold enamelled steel with the crimson cloak that so many Lannisters had worn throughout history. It took quite some time to reach the Senate Chambers. The herald bellowed when the guards opened the door. “The Field Marshal, Ser Tycos Lannister!” Voices hushed as they all studied his appearance. Always a commanding presence, Daenerys greeted him. “I hope your journey was safe. We’ve all heard about your success in the war. The praise showered upon you is warranted.” Tycos bowed. “It is a great honour to hear that, especially from you, your grace.” 

Tycos took a seat near Queen Daenerys and she spoke. “We all know why we’ve called this meeting. The same reason you senators wanted to recall Ser Edmure, and Ser Tycos. The war may be going well in Essos but we find ourselves in a dangerous position here in Westeros. Euron Greyjoy has an army in the Riverlands and in the Westerlands. There was an apparent betrayal perpetrated by Robert Arryn in the Vale.” Ser Edmure was sitting across the table from Tycos. “Lady Asha, and the Mallisters have retreated back to Seagard. We fear Euron will gain control of the Riverlands. That Arryn boy put us in a bad place, his host is twelve thousand strong adding to Euron’s already large army.” Tycos felt he had to find out more about this development. He looked to the senators from the Vale. “So, you both represent the Vale. Tell me, how did he manage to gain such a host? You had no clue he was planning this?” Andrek Royce and Glidden Hunter were pale. It was Royce who spoke. “My house has always been loyal to House Arryn going back to when they were Kings. We had no inclination of this betrayal but we are senators. Ravens came telling us that the young lord was raising an army but we were all told to raise more men. When it became apparent that he was turning his cloak, the loyal houses had to scramble just to save their own lands within the Vale. Houses Hunter, Belmore, Redfort, and my own house are all still loyal to the crown.”

“That is good to know.” Daenerys replied. The only person from the Riverlands that was in the hall was Ser Edmure. Petyr Mallister and Brynden Blackwood had returned to the Riverlands to fight Euron Greyjoy. Queen Daenerys began discussing what should be done. “If left unchecked, we could lose much. I wasn’t keen on the idea of recalling both Ser Edmure and Ser Tycos from the Essos campaign but you senators asked that of me so here they are, and now we must decide the next move.” Edmure cleared his throat. “If I may, your grace, I will ask that you put me in command in the Riverlands. Ser Tycos can take Euron Greyjoy on in the west while I destroy the forces in my lands.” Dany looked to Tycos. “No, you will follow my command. I think my cousin Daven can handle the Westerlands. We’ll take care of the Riverlands and the Vale.” Daenerys thought for a moment. “We’ll need time to gather forces from the other regions. How many do you think you need?” Edmure went to speak but Tycos cut him off. “We have the men needed already, in the Riverlands.” 

Edmure was horrified. “How do you figure that? Asha and the Mallisters were thrown back to the sea. That boy marches east as we speak, there is no time to gather men from Dorne, the North, or the Reach.” Walton Manderly responded. “We’ve raised around ten thousand men but we’re currently arming and training them. It would take at least a month before they were ready to march.” Some of the others echoed that response. “Send word to the houses in the Riverlands. Have any of the lords not yet attacked send the men to meet us at Saltpans.” Edmure knew his lands and lords. “They’d have to abandon their castles to the enemy.”  _ I don’t know how anyone would trust this fool to command any army.  _ “If they leave small garrisons behind, and if the enemy knows we’d have an army forming, they will meet that threat. They aren’t going to waste time and men taking a useless castle.” “Even still, we will have five thousand able soldiers at most to meet a much larger force.”  _ I’d take those odds against my cousin Robert anyday. _ Edmure was unsure. “What about the dragons, surely we can deploy them in this fight.” Daenerys’ face seemed to light up. Tycos studied her before replying. “Our Queen is nearly ready to give birth and you want her flying a dragon in the middle of a battle with arrows flying and scorpion bolts screeching through the air? You are a brave man, to risk the wrath of my father and the King if anything was to happen to her.” Edmure was still missing the point. “She doesn’t need to fly a dragon, just ride with us to the battlefield. Surely they obey her command.” Tycos was having none of it. “We will use the dragons only if we have no choice. They would be crucial if this war turned against us and I know you don’t realize this but dragons can die. There are two full sized dragons left in the world that we know of and three hatchlings. We lose those two dragons, we lose the biggest instrument of fear we have against our enemies. The only reason for the enemy to stay their hand when it comes to attacking the capital.”

Edmure was still unconvinced. “What is the point of wielding such fear if we refuse to use it do our advantage?” Daenerys was clearly, unbelievably, on Edmure’s side. “When I was leading a ragged band of Dothraki to Astapor, I was surrounded by hostile people. No free citizen trusted me. Ser Jorah came up with the idea to buy Unsullied in Astapor, an idea I was not keen on. I made a deal to give Kraznys Mo Nakloz. He made a point to mock and degrade me at every opportunity but I was courteous all the same. When it became apparent that all my ships and trade goods would only amount to a much smaller force than what I needed; another deal of a different kind was struck. He offered me every soldier for my biggest dragon. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan begged me not to do it.” Daenerys paused to chuckle. The entire hall was as silent as a crypt. Everyone was enraptured with the tale, even Tycos. She continued with a smile. “I knew it had to be a mistake if both of my knights agreed with each other because they never agreed. Out on the plaza, I made the deal and Nakloz handed me the scepter that meant the Unsullied were mine. Nakloz made it a point to insult me one last time while fighting to control Drogon. It was in that moment I proved the power of dragons to the slavers. When it was all done I had my army and the city was liberated. That is what happens when you have dragons.”  _ It’s hard to know an enemy when you assume they’re dead and gone.  _ Tycos pointed that out. “Dragons had only just reappeared in this world. Nobody knew what they were dealing with like we do now. There will be a time to use dragons I’m sure, but I don’t think now is that time.” Daenerys looked to everyone in the room. “What do you all think should be done?” Nearly everyone in the room was siding with Edmure. The lord Manderly, and Thenn, along with Brynden Blackwood. Royce and Hunter, Seaworth, and Estermont. Everyone from all corners of the realm. That was enough for Daenerys. “It’s settled. Ser Tycos, I will see to it that you have everything needed when we sail.”

“Ser Edmure can lead the army. I am going back to Essos, where my command won’t be undermined by folly.” Daenerys wasn’t used to opposition, besides King Jon. “You would defy a direct command?” “Let’s just call this what it is, foolish. Besides that, this is not a totalitarian monarchy anymore, your grace. You all here want me to conduct a war, then you will let me do it the way I want to, or not at all.” Tycos surveyed the room before looking at Dany again. “And you will stay here. You can fume all you want but my father and King Jon are the ones who put me in charge and want you safe and I will die before I fail in that duty.” Everyone was looking at Tycos and Daenerys. The tension was high but in the end it wouldn’t matter. Daenerys had few options and she knew it. It was either allow Tycos to fight his way, or allow Ser Edmure to and risk losing the Riverlands and more. With more than a little malice in her voice she dismissed everyone except Tycos. When they were alone she spoke. “I know you think I’m clueless when it comes to military tactics but I was winning battles at the age of thirteen.” “I never said that, but you’ve made mistakes. As far as I know, one was the destruction of King’s Landing.” Daenerys reacted as if she had been struck. “You can’t possibly think I’m responsible for that!” Tycos didn’t blame her entirely. “No, not all of it. My aunt was as much to blame than anyone else. The explosion killed many soldiers but many civilians were in the Red Keep. The city was won, and yet, you still attacked the Red Keep. Sure, you weren’t out to kill innocent people but it happened.” She had tears in her eyes.  _ I wasn’t trying to open old wounds but she needs to understand why I don’t trust relying on dragons.  _ “I had… I had lost so much. Missandei, Grey Worm, Viserion, Ser Barristan. Your mother and Arya were turning Jon against me it seemed. Jon was a hero to many here and I was the foreign invader. For so long, I was the savior when in Essos. Here, I was pushed away.” Tycos felt sorry for her.

 

“You changed for the better, your grace. In the end it all worked out for you and King Jon. The people came to accept you and remember that without you, the dead might rule here.” She seemed to appreciate that. “Thank you.” After a few moments of silence she stood up. “Well, I’ll let you rest. You have to prepare for the morrow I’m sure.” “Indeed. I promise you, if we need the dragons, I will use them.” She nodded and they both departed the hall. Tycos used what free time he had studying maps and trying to decide his course of action once in the Riverlands. He was in his solar when he thought of something. “Deryk! Come here lad!” The boy came quickly to see what Tycos needed. “Yes, my lord?” Tycos was writing on a scroll. He rolled it up and fixed his seal to it. “Give this to Lord Varys.” “Yes, my lord.” It was getting late and Tycos had an early morning ahead so he went to sleep. The next day was cold and snow was threatening when Tycos and Edmure boarded their ship. Edmure turned to Tycos. “What is the Spider doing on this ship?” Varys smiled. “I find myself wondering the same good ser.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did this chapter so I could set up the many plans in motion. I don't want to cut corners in this story.


	23. The Heir III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was going to do a large chapter with a Brandon PoV but chose to break it up into two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The siege of Volantis

 

    It was a mild day, the sky was a beautiful bright blue colour with the sun shining. Salam, along with their forces had just arrived at their destination and was outside the walls of Volantis. Without the ships that Braavos supposedly sent on their way there was no way to cut off their food supply. Salam’s commander, Brandon, rode up next to him. “Those walls look formidable.” _That’s probably the most obvious statement I’ve ever heard._ “We can’t take those walls, boy.” If the Prince was offended he displayed no sign. The boy looked thoughtful for a moment. “We’ll need to ferry men across the river if possible. We might be able to starve them out.” Salam laughed. “We’ll lose half our army if you decide to do that. Dothraki hate sitting outside walls waiting for the enemy to attack them. They’ll move on elsewhere before coming back here to take the city.” That troubled Brandon. “Would they actually desert us or would they come back?” Salam shrugged. “These Dothraki don’t care about the cities they sack, might be they rid us of a few enemies. Pentos is the closest ally they’ve had and that’s just because of the magisters giving lavash gifts to a passing Khal.” Brandon beckoned his squires over to him. “Leo, go tell Ser Balon to see the siege engines. Corgyle, tell Tormund Giantsbane I want to speak to him. While you are at it I want you to tell the Caron brothers form foraging parties day and night. We don’t know how long we will be here and I want to starve them out without starving our own forces.” _This boy is too serious. I don’t think he’s smiled once since we left the grasslands._ Salam wanted to know what role he’d play in this farce. “What of me?” “We’re going to discuss that soon.”

    Brandon was true to his word. When Tormund arrived Brandon pulled out a map from the saddle. “So we’re here on the east side of the city. That massive bridge effectively splits the city in two. The Sealord of Braavos has dispatched a fleet that if the seas are calm enough, should arrive any day now. As much as I’d like to wait for them, there is no time or we blow the element of surprise. Tormund, my father put trust in you so I trust you as well. I want you to take the light cavalry to find a way across the Rhoyne.” Tormund tugged at his beard. “What if we can’t find this river?” Salam laughed but Brandon remained stoic. “I’ll give you a map.” “Aye, but I’m not the best when it comes to words. Salam chuckled under his breath. _I wonder what fool put him in command._ Brandon was clearly annoyed. “It’s in that direction, that’s literally all you have to do.” “Aye, but what if we pass this river? We might end up lost a thousand leagues away.” Salam was enjoying this a little too much so he felt inclined to help the young Prince. “I’d hope that doesn’t happen. Unless your horses can walk on water there is no chance you’d miss the damn Rhoyne. Use the sun you fool, it rises in the east and sets in the west and it has always done that.” Brandon was finally able to continue. “I’m going to split the Dothraki into two forces, one to stay on this side of the river and the other to ride with you. There is a ford north of here, the same one I used to cross the river to reach Pentos. Khal Bhaka knows where it is so he will lead the way. You are to prevent any supplies from reaching the city. Do not engage the Volantene, do not. That is the most important part. Prevent their escape if they ride out but under no circumstances are you to attack their walls.” _Pretty impressive for a boy who can’t even grow a proper beard yet._ Tormund nodded. “Aye, finally, something I can do.” “Don’t let me down, Tormund. You will have overall say in what happens when you reach the other side.” Tormund let out a bellowed laugh. “When have I ever let anyone down?” The Wildling started off to camp.

    “What do you need of me, Prince Brandon?” “Well, for now your men will be in reserve. When the ships arrive I plan on putting catapults and scorpions to use on that bridge. Your men will be in reserve for the time being. It’s not glorious but we might need them if we are attacked from the rear by the Ghiscari.” If Brandon wanted to disappoint Salam it didn’t work. As long as he was paid it didn’t matter to him what the sellswords did. “That works for me.” “Good.” Salam went to sleep earlier than usual that night. The next day the Tyrell boy came and woke him. “Prince Brandon wants to see you at once.” It was still a bit dark out as the sun rose into the sky. Salam wore his studded leather jerkin and woolen breeches. Immediately it was clear why he was summoned. Salam stopped beside Brandon. Salam smiled. “It’s a pleasure to see a friend once again.” Brandon was confused by that statement.  Hovarys Vathar was unamused. “It will be a time for celebration when we punish you for your betrayal.” “I am a sellsword, we are only loyal to one thing.” The new made Emperor was all but yelling. “We will enslave you and your turncloak allies.” Before he could reply, Brandon shouted. “Enough, this is a parley. I’m sixteen and find myself the most mature person here. Emperor Vathar, you came to treat with us and I appreciate that. Here are the terms. Unconditional surrender of Volantis and the dissolvement of your alliance with New Ghis. You will free every slave in your city and provide them with as much food and clothing as they can carry.” Salam rolled his eyes. _Why even summon a parley with them if these are the terms? They’ll never accept these demands, and he has to know it._ “You will open your gates and allow us to occupy the city. No harm will come to any citizen but we will ensure Volantis remains a non belligerent for the duration of this war. Reparations will be paid to the Sunset Kingdom, Pentos, and Braavos. These are our terms.” _Let’s see what Vathar has to say. This will be good._

    Vathar didn’t disappoint Salam. “This boy knows nothing. We came to make our own terms. We want a tribute in gold and slaves, and for the savage Westeros to acknowledge the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire as the rulers of that land.” Seeing as neither side was willing to negotiate, Salam and Brandon rode back to camp, leaving the Emperor of Volantis there like a fool. Three more days passed without event, but on the fourth day a rider appeared. Brandon, Salam, and the other commanders received the man in their council tent. By the ridiculous garb it could only mean the man was delivering the news signaling the arrival of the Braavosi fleet. “My Prince, the Sealord of Braavos wishes to inform you that we have the Volantene bridge blocked off on both sides. We sent a scouting party on the western side of the city. A man claiming to be your ally has the city cut off from any aid on that side.” Brandon nodded. “Very good. I’ll have my squire see that you are well fed and rewarded. I trust you had a safe journey?” “We fought some skirmishes with the Free Cities allied with the Volantene-Ghiscari forces but we captured a few ships and chased the others off, they are of no real threat. The storms were the most dangerous peril we faced. Eight ships are missing or lost, twelve are damaged but still in service, we are making the proper repairs.” “Good work. Send word to your captain that we will begin immediately in trying to take down that bridge. I have men who will help mount the proper weapons needed for that task.” The Braavosi man nodded and left without another word. By nightfall, large boulders, some wrapped in hemp soaked with pitch, were flying through the night sky. It was a beautiful and frightening sight to behold. “Do you think it will work?” Brandon had approached to survey the flaming streaks in the sky. “It might eventually but it’s hard to tell right now.” Brandon was thinking intently. “You were allied with them, how many soldiers do they have?” Salam rubbed his stubbled chin. “We caught them by surprise. They didn’t think we’d make it this far in such haste but they were informed.”

    “So you think it’s lightly defended?” “It wasn’t a total surprise so they did manage to scramble up some men, slaves mostly. They were likely well trained but at most they number around ten thousand. If they utilize all of their slaves however, that could triple their fighting men.” _If you can call them fighters._ “I’ll be honest with you, young Prince. The men they muster will be innocent slaves. I know that bothers you, it bothered your mother when she went after the cities along Slaver’s Bay. The soldiers they send will die for them only because their women and children’s lives will be forfeit should they turn their cloaks. If we don’t take the city and settle in for a long siege like it’s shaping up to be then the first ones to die of starvation would be the slaves, followed by the poor. The wealthy and powerful will sit comfortably behind their black walls, and make no mistake, those walls can’t be breached. The Valyrians built them.” Brandon was clearly upset by all this but Salam wouldn’t shy away from the truth. “I wish my cousin were here with me. I’m no leader.” “That’s where you’re wrong, boy.” Brandon seemed surprised by his words. Perhaps it was because he was a sellsword and the Tattered Prince’s son that caused that reaction. Salam smiled. “You defeated me after all.” “It wasn’t my plan, I just followed the orders, like I am now.” Salam didn’t know when it happened but he came to genuinely view Brandon as a friend. “Tycos decided to go to war? He came up with the plan to recruit Braavos? Is he commanding this siege and drawing up battle plans? I think you were the one doing that.” Brandon chewed on those words for a moment. “Well I guess his father and my parents along with the Senate decided to go to war.” “And if your cousin was here what would he do?” That question seemed to trouble the boy. “Honestly, I am afraid to think about that. Many view him as another Tywin Lannister in the making. While that may be a slight against anyone else, Tycos actually seems to relish in the thought of being compared to his grandfather.”

    Salam had heard stories from some of the Westerosi lords about Tycos, and his grandfather. “So you think your cousin would do whatever it takes, even if that means innocent lives being lost.” Brandon ran both of his hands through his hair. “He didn’t at Vaes Dothrak but he had done that in hopes of winning Dothraki to our cause. Here in Volantis, an enemy everyone in my country views as evil, corrupt, and heartless, I feel he would do whatever eliminated the threat.” “So, don’t do what you think he’d do, come up with your own plan.” Brandon and Salam watched the bridge being assaulted for a while before returning to camp. Brandon met with his commanders before retiring for the night. “We don’t know their exact strength but I want us prepared for anything. At the first sign of attack I want the men ready, archers in the rear. Shield wall and pikemen in front.” Suddenly Brandon had a stunned expression on his face. Ser Balon saw it too. “What is it, my Prince?” “I need to get a letter to Tormund Giantsbane as soon as possible.” Brandon sat down and scribbled on some parchment. “Leo, see this to him personally. There’s a knighthood waiting for you if you do.” Salam saw the rare sight of Brandon actually smiling. After the meeting Salam felt compelled to ask. “So what’s with the letter.” Brandon gave him a knowing look. “I took your advice. I am the one in command as you said. If the Volantene attacks Tormund, they’ll rue it.” They went to their tents after that, and when Salam woke up the next morning he saw Brandon’s squire, Leo Tyrell, speaking with him. The boy had a tear falling down his cheek as Brandon knighted him. It was an honour to be knighted for the people of Westeros. Salam saw a large group of mounted Dothraki approaching the camp. He was surprised by this. “Why are they back here? That fool Tormund needs them.” Brandon turned to look. “Good, no, I will put them to better use. He has enough men, maybe not to face Volantis in open battle but if he follows my orders he won’t have to.” 

    The walls of Volantis had new decorations it seemed. Trebuchets lined them every ten yards but it did little good. Brandon had made sure their forces were out of range. Brandon called for his sole remaining squire, Corgyle Velaryon. “Did you tell the Braavosi to prepare my ship?” The boy nodded. “I did, my Prince. Captain Gyllodos Vollelar bid you take his own cabin.” Salam was confused. “Ship? Where are you going?” Brandon put a hand on his shoulder. “I am putting my trust in you, Ser Jorah, and the other lords while I sail to the western side of the river. You will summon another parley. I want the enemy to know our dispositions. Make it seem as if you want to frighten him into surrender. If these slavers are as you say then that should enrage him. Do they have a commander?” Salam rubbed his chin. “Eh, as far as I know the Triarchs are leading the armies along with the Ghiscari Emperor Grazdan Zikothy. They were marching towards Qohor, and Braavos was next on their list of conquest. I don’t think there are any battle tested commanders in the city. Vathar would be the one leading them.” Brandon spurred his horse and smiled. “Good.” He rode off with his squire. Later that night was an odd war council to say the least. The old man, Ser Jorah, always needed a reason to complain. “We’ve lost half our number now with the Dothraki raiding useless villages.” Ser Balon was the exact opposite. “They form a bulwark against a surprise attack should the main Volantene-Ghiscari force move south.” Salam stood up. “We’re following your Prince’s orders, and will continue to do so. Send a rider with a peace banner to the gates of Volantis in the morning so I can parley with the Emperor. I’m going to bed, you all can bicker well enough without me.” Ser Jorah tried to speak but Salam cut him off. “These were orders expressed by the Prince himself, old man.”

    Salam woke up early the next day. Waltho was the closest thing to a squire for Salam, and the meal he made for Salam was savory. It was a beautiful day but it was soured by the two hours Emperor Vathar made them wait. The gates finally opened to a precession of guards who flanked their leader as he was carried on a palanquin by slaves. The Emperor was silent. Salam, Ser Balon Swan, Lord Julian Swan, Lord Bryce Caron, and Ser Rolland Caron were waiting with Salam. _Hopefully they can keep their mouths shut. These Westerosi love to hear their own voice._ They were told to let Salam speak and to only speak if called upon. “You have once again asked for me? What do you wish to speak to me about, turncloak?” Salam chuckled. “Okay, I was informed to once again deliver the terms to you, not suffer your feeble insults. Unconditional surrender. I know you have what? Perhaps ten thousand soldiers inside the city? We have you outnumbered four to one.” The Emperor was undaunted. “Your Dothraki have fled the field.” “Yes, well, that still leaves around seven thousand men outside the western gates of your city. I’m sure you’re familiar with the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Stormborn, but right now her own blood and heir commands the forces over there. Fortunately for you he has his father’s cold mercy instead of his mother’s fiery sense of justice. He is offering to let you keep your position and power, just not an imperialistic rule of the known world.” Ser Jorah objected strongly to what he saw as compromising their position.“Salam, you fool, don’t tell him….” Salam rounded on him. “Don’t presume to speak, infact, leave. I won’t suffer your rebukes, especially in the presence of a foe.” The old knight was fuming but left without another word. The others around Salam glanced at each other nervously. _Aye, might be I’d react the same way if I was left in the dark._ Emperor Vathar spat towards Salam. “That’s what I think of your terms. Your forces will starve long before mine will. We’re done here.” They started back towards the gate. “Fool!” Salam and the others stayed for a moment. Ser Balon spoke to Salam in a hushed tone. “Is it wise to do this? They might attack the Prince.” Salam smiled. “Oh, I’m sure they will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love exploring these type of situations. Hopefully you like it. Honestly I get more nervous about the feedback than I did during exams.


	24. Brandon III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Siege of Volantis reaches a turning point but other news complicates matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon's son comes to grips with the fact that he must be a leader. Something his own father had struggled with during his years in the Night's Watch.

Two days had come and gone. Brandon knew today was the day Salam would speak with Emperor Vathar. If Brandon was correct in his thinking, Emperor Vathar would attack him.  _ It’s tragic that so many should die on such a beautiful day.  _ Brandon was with Ser Addam Marbrand, and Tormund Giantsbane. Ser Davos had sailed to Essos this past fortnight and Brandon had sent him to oversee the supplies since he was the Quartermaster General and their own Quartermaster, Ser Edmure, had been recalled to Westeros with Tycos. Tormund was munching on a leg of lamb. Ser Addam was leering at the city. “Do you think it wise to do this?” Brandon hoped it was, if not they were in for a tough day. “I do. Tormund will take half our men half a league south, if the enemy attacks our position here we will ride around them. We might take heavy losses from archers atop the wall but once we outflank the enemy we’ve won.” Tormund was licking grease off his fingertips. Ser Addam gave an unassured look towards Tormund. “If you say so.” Tormund was untroubled. Brandon expressed his reasoning. “We want them to attack but our goal isn’t to engage them directly.” Brandon made sure any siegecraft they did have was returned to the ships or given to their forces to the east. If everything went well, they wouldn’t need them. “Tormund, take the men and go now. You know what to look for?” “Aye, when I see that flaming arrow, I attack.” Soon almost four thousand men were gone. If the city had eyes on them they surely informed Vathar. “Addam, form the men up, I feel like the attack is imminent.” Brandon had his horse nearby and he stood next to a brazier with a bow knocked with an arrow. 

 

Sure enough after only an hour of waiting, the gates creeped open. The men marching out were not on horseback to that was a positive sign. Thousands marched out of the gate. Ser Addam was waiting on Brandon.  _ By the end of the day I’ll either be a hero or a failure.  _ Brandon dipped his arrow into the brazier and pointed the bow directly towards the sky and a thrum sound followed. Brandon and Ser Addam rode in front of their men, the Volantene were only a short distance away. “I’m sure Ser Addam explained what to do. We want to draw them in, do not change course until you are as close as possible. We are not here to defeat that army, and if you do your duty, we won’t have to.” Brandon turned to face the enemy. “Forward, advance!” A war horn sounded and they charged at the enemy with furious speed. The foe had large pikes pointing directly at Brandon’s men. From the corner of his eye he spotted Tormund and his men. Now was the moment. “Alright men, shift left!” The entire charge switched directions and rode right past the enemy troops. Brandon, Ser Addam, and Tormund, along with their entire army, charged the gate. The defenders had tried to close the large gate in a vain attempt to stop them, but it was too late. Brandon did want the gate closed, after they made it into the city. Brandon’s army poured through while arrows rained down on them from the walls. Many of his men fell from their horses. The beast themselves screamed as the arrows pierced their flesh. Brandon was shouting as loud as he could. “Form a rear guard and close that gate!” Ser Addam had an arrow in his shoulder but it didn’t seem serious. “Prince Brandon, I’m leading a cadre of men to clear those walls!” Brandon nodded. There were relatively few soldiers in the streets and their mounted forces ran them down with ease. Brandon was leading his men to the large bridge. He found Tormund waiting for him there. “They aren’t opening the gate across that bridge. Odd, they don’t seem to care about their own men.”  _ No, the nobles don’t care. _

__ Brandon took a moment to catch his breath. “Those men we dodged outside the city were slave soldiers. Perhaps the commanding officers were free born nobility, but for the most part slaves.” Tormund was waiting on Brandon to tell him their next move. “We’ll leave a few men here to watch for an attack. We’re going to address our men and establish some order here.. I don’t want murder, rape, or the destruction of property.” Brandon sounded a war horn in a large market square. There were pockets of fighting in some of the other districts but the sound of steel soon subsided. They had captured a few hundred prisoners. The men gathered and Brandon spoke to them. “What you did today was nothing short of incredible. Most armies would have smashed themselves to pieces against Volantis but thanks to you it didn’t come to that, and now it’s time to see to the people in the city. Every slave inside these walls may take comfort knowing they are now free. For their services the owners will provide them with food and clothing.” The crowd of frightened citizens were silent. He didn’t know if they feared him, or hated him, but it didn’t matter. They let their lust for power lead them down this path and for that Brandon felt no remorse. “No harm will come to anyone who maintains order and common decency, my men will do the same. That is all.” Ser Addam had his wounds tended to and met with Brandon and Tormund. Brandon was relieved to find his squire among the living as well. Ser Addam wanted to make a speech of his own. “Prince Brandon, we have men on the walls armed with longbows. Our foe outside the city have thus far have stayed their hand but I want to address them.” Brandon agreed to his request but wanted to be there to hear it. When they were atop the walls of the city Brandon surveyed their numbers. Ser Addam noticed what Brandon had. “Not the number of soldiers we expected. More or less the same strength as our own.” “Indeed, what is it you want to tell them?” Ser Addam requested a parley flag to be mounted above the gates. 

Again, Brandon granted his request. “I’ve seen my fair share of battles. I have experience in negotiating as well.” The slave army outside saw the flag and paid close attention as Ser Addam raised his hand in a gesture letting them know he was speaking to them. “You men were ready to fight us, to kill us or throw us back into the sea.” Brandon couldn’t hear them but they appeared to whisper to each other. They stared solemnly at Ser Addam after his pause. “You hold no personal vendetta against my countrymen I’m sure. You did your duty, you did what your masters forced you to under the pain of death if you refused, or the death of your families. We hold the western half of the city and have seen to freeing the remaining slaves. No harm has come to them. Right now you have a choice, you can remain loyal to your overseers or you can lay down your weapons and return to your families as free men.” For a moment the slave soldiers stood with stoic expressions. Suddenly, a Volantene officer had a foot of steel protruding from his throat. That was all it took for the rest of the slaves. The officers made threats, begged for mercy, or were fleeing for their lives, but they were all cut down to a man. Ser Addam turned to Brandon. “You’re welcome, my Prince.” In truth, this was something Brandon did not like. He would have preferred taking the men prisoner but this was the way of war sometimes.  _ I don’t see Emperor Vathar, he was the real prize. _ It was no surprise that Vathar preferred the safety of his black walls instead of leading men into battle. He was no true general. By nightfall the gate to the western side of the city was open again allowing the former slave soldiers back into the city. Brandon made his headquarters out of a modest inn near the entrance. Tormund was drinking what Brandon assumed was milk, he was singing ‘The Dornishman’s Wife’ with some former bed slaves, tears tattooed on their cheeks to mark them for what they had been. Ser Addam, and Brandon’s squire Corgyle Velaryon sat at a table by the hearth with Brandon.

“Corgyle, you did well today. You shall be rewarded tomorrow morning so make sure you don your armour.” The boy cocked his head almost like a dog would. “My Prince?” “How do you like the sound of Ser Corgyle?” The boy stuttered for a moment but collected himself. “If you think of me as worthy it would be an honour, my Prince.” Brandon put a hand on his shoulder. “You are. Go enjoy yourself, today was a day worthy of celebration.” Ser Addam and Tormund were with him. “Tormund, I might just leave you here. You seem to enjoy this city.” He laughed. “What would your father do without me?” “He might get some rest.” He laughed again. Brandon turned his gaze to Ser Addam. “You were great.” Ser Addam lifted a flagon in salute. “I have to tell you both something.” Tormund gave a whore a slap on her buttocks. “I’ll see you later.” He said with a smile. She left with an enigmatic look on her face.  _ I hope he is paying her. I said the slaves were free.  _ “On the morrow, I have some matters to see to and will take a ship to meet with my commanders on the other side of the river. Ser Addam, you will be in charge over here in my absence.” Ser Addam knelt. “Thank you for this honour, Prince Brandon.” Tormund was eating a bowl of stew with what Brandon hoped was beef. “What? Not me?” Brandon smiled. “Especially not you.” He shook his head. “Your father would skin you for a pelt if he saw the folly.” All three of them knew it was all in jest. Finally when it was getting late Brandon made his leave. The next morning Brandon knighted his only remaining squire. His father wasn’t a knight and didn’t really believe in what he viewed as southron fancy meant to seduce maidens but Brandon was raised in the south. Most men served as squires for longer periods of time but this was a war unique to everyone. A war between two nations but a war in which most of the known world was involved one way or another. The ceremony took place outside the gates in view of their men. “Arise, Ser Corgyle Velaryon.”

Afterwards the new made knight followed him to his ship. “You don’t want me to come with you, Prince Brandon? I know you’ve honoured me with knighthood but I still feel sworn to you.” Brandon put a hand on his shoulder like he had the night before. “And you can still serve me as my personal guard but I’m simply meeting with my commanders to report the situation here as well as discuss their next course of action. I will come back, most likely at the end of the day or on the morrow.” He had boarded the ship to make the crossing. No sign of enemy activity was seen but the massive camp outside of their walls was awe inspiring. The Dothraki were still raiding it seemed but would return at some point, Brandon was sure of it. Ser Jorah, Salam, the Swan and Caron brothers, and a new arrival greeted him. “Ser Davos? It’s been too long. How have you been?” He walked towards Brandon. “I’m good. Your father and Tyrion thought I’d better serve here in Essos now that Ser Edmure has returned to Westeros. We need to make sure your men are supplied after all.” Ser Jorah interrupted their reunion. “My Prince, we need to talk.” Brandon looked at Salam and he nodded in agreement. “Very well, lead me to your command tent.” When he entered the tent he found another familiar face. “Theon?” He looked to be in a rough state of mind. “Prince Brandon.” Was all he said and he went to one knee. “What are you doing here?” He wiped sweat from his forehead. “We were attacked. Qarth is no longer under blockade. We still hold the Gulf of Grief but the armies who turned on Daario Naharis are on the march. “Attacked by whom?” Their Vice Admiral shrugged. “I don’t know.” Ser Jorah questioned him further. “What do you mean you don’t know? What did their ships look like? Ghiscari? Were they from the other Free Cities allied with them?” Theon remained adamant. “These ships looked as if they were made of gold. Honestly, I’ve never seen such people anywhere. I know what the men from Ebon look like, I’ve never seen people like this before.”

Brandon was troubled. “How many ships?” Theon paused nervously. “I’m not a craven anymore. I don’t fear death, but to fight them would have been a slaughter and we would have lost more if I hadn’t given the order to abandon the blockade once the battle turned against us.” Salam asked Theon a question. “Did you notice anything on the sails? Did you see any ornaments on their ships?” “I did, I saw a Jade Goddess with a monkey’s tail.” Ser Jorah and Salam both glanced at each other. Brandon saw it. “What is it?” Ser Jorah was in a state of shock. “The fabled ancient lands to the east.” Salam echoed Ser Jorah’s response. “Yi Ti, Leng, they are a strong empire in their own right. I doubt they would submit to the Volantene-Ghiscari ambitions but an alliance with the YiTish would complicate things for us. We don’t know their strength.” Their Vice Admiral had a good idea of the possible strength. “They had many more ships than we had. We lost twenty of our own. I didn’t want to lose more so we made it to the Gulf of Grief to reinforce the Grand Admiral. I fear he will become trapped in the gulf if they are as strong as I think. By my count, hundreds of ships are in pursuit. I will make my way back to Lord Redwyne in hopes to warn him and if the gods are with us we can break out.” This was bad news for them. Theon put a hand on Brandon’s hand. “I’m sorry. There’s one more thing to report.” “Go ahead, Theon.” He swallowed nervously. “Meereen, Astapor, and Yunkai have begun their march and are making their way here. It will be a long journey for them and not without peril. The Red Waste will claim many I’m sure but they are eager to get revenge for their defeat at the hands of your mother.” There was silence.  _ Looks like I won’t be leaving tonight.  _ “You did well, Theon, nobody will forget your bravery.” Theon seemed so honoured by those words he had tears in his eyes. “Thank you, I must leave at this moment. I can’t abandon the Grand Admiral.” They all saluted Theon which overwhelmed him again. 

He left the tent, ready to sail to what possibly might be his last battle in hopes of saving their fleet. Brandon stood up. “I have to send word to the Senate and those in charge. Ser Jorah, I need to write a letter and I want it delivered to Pentos. This letter will be sent to New Valyria. Take the ship across the river and take twenty riders with you.” Ser Jorah nodded. “I will depart in the morning.” Brandon shook his head. “No, this is to be done now. Tell Ser Addam I must remain here for the time being and not to let the men grow unruly. Salam was quiet. “That Theon Greyjoy will be lucky if he makes it to that Redwyne fellow. His fleet was depleted fighting the Qarthi and YiTi forces. They might be in the midst of battle when he arrives.” Brandon knew that already. “There was a time where Theon was one of the most despised men in the Seven Kingdoms. This was before the Great War took place. He was labeled as a turn cloak on account of the fact that he served my cousin in the War of the Five Kings and abandoned him to join in taking the North in a foolish attempt to impress his father Balon and carve out land for himself. He paid for that in ways I won’t get into. He committed treason in the eyes of the northmen, but was wrongly accused of killing the heirs of Winterfell along with putting the castle to the torch. He has since proven one of the most honourable men I know.” It was getting late, so they concluded their affairs and Brandon found his pavillion, undressed and laid down. Ser Jorah and his escort had already started towards Pentos with the letter he hoped would reach his mother and wondered how everything they accomplished seemed to be compounded by more and more bad news.  _ I need your guidance more than ever, father. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Volantis is in peril but it's not totally conquered yet.


	25. Daenerys I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is a new PoV chapter in my story. In the books, Dany had them, but I had yet to include one in mine. I didn't know if I wanted to and my reason being because I wanted to take a new direction. Yet, in order to let you all know what is going on in the capital I needed someone to convey that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We meet a new Targaryen and see familiar faces.

 

Looking out the window Dany could see more snow falling from the sky. The recently completed King’s landing was within view across the Blackwater and was receiving the same harsh gust of wind and snow as New Valyria.  _ Like a twin, one does not suffer without the other.  _ It had been half a fortnight since she had given birth to her fourth child. Her King and husband didn’t know yet, he was either still in the Summer Isles or on his way home, she hoped he was at least. The wet nurse had just visited her. “I put the dragon egg in the crib, just like you asked, your grace.” Daenerys turned to look. “Thank you, Mila.” Dany replied with a smile. “What are you going to name the little Princess?” Daenerys didn’t know yet, nor would she do so without Jon being there. “There will be no name until her father returns.” “Ah, well, I hope the King returns soon so you both can choose one.” Her wet nurse had already fed her newborn daughter and Dany told her there was nothing else she needed and that she was free to feast on the morning meal. 

Dany was still tired and weak from the birth so a servant brought her breakfast. As she ate the bacon, eggs, and potatoes, she found herself missing her companions from Essos. Missandei, Greyworm, Ser Barristan, and recently Daario had died. She had never felt so alone, especially without Jon and her other children. Brandon was fighting in Essos, Daeron and Rhaenys were at Horn Hill learning under Samwell Tarly himself. Normally a child, especially a high born child, would learn at an institution or under a maester but Jon had requested Sam personally. The servant had left her chambers so she started speaking to her child, knowing she’d get no reply. “You have your father’s eyes, those piercing eyes of the Starks. You’ll be a dragon rider though, like your mother.” In truth, Jon was a Targaryen and not the Stark bastard he thought he was. He didn’t look like a Targaryen though, and he didn’t care too much for dragons either.  _ He only flies when he has no choice.  _ Daeron and Rhaenys had dragons, although they were still too small to fly. Brandon’s dragon was close to that threshold, but he had left his dragon behind when he sailed to Essos.

There was a knock on the door. “Come in.” The door opened to reveal Grand Maester Paleon. “Your grace, a letter from your son came today. It took half a fortnight to reach us but the tidings are good.”  _ Thank the gods.  _ “Very well, may I read it?” The Grand Maester smiled. “I’ll let the messenger bring it to you.” She only had to wait a few moments. “Ser Jorah?! He sent you?” Her old bear smiled and gave her a strong hug. “I see you had your baby without us.” Dany chuckled. “My daughter didn’t want to wait, not even for her father or siblings.” After they caught up with each other on how they were she cut straight to the point. “My son sends me my protector to deliver a letter, what does it say?” Ser Jorah gave her the letter. “You’ll want to summon a meeting in the Senate, I can read them the letter if you’re too weak.” She shook her head. “No, I feel great. We can summon a meeting on the morrow.” She broke the wax seal and began to read.  _ “In honour of our King and Queen, as well as our Prime Minister and Senate, I, Prince Brandon, have the great privilege to announce that a great victory was won against our foe. As of right now we have control of the western portion of Volantis, and soon hope to take the eastern half. We also have troubling reports of the enemy. The main Volantene-Ghiscari army has marched far north and their true intent I fear is to take Braavos.  _

__ She looked to Ser Jorah. “Braavos? They would be fools to attack Braavos.” Ser Jorah agreed. “It makes no sense. They won’t make it within a league of the dockyard before they are cut to pieces.” She continued reading.  _ “Theon Greyjoy and Paxter Redwyne are also in the midst of a desperate attempt to break out of the Gulf of Grief. Enemies that we fear allied with the Volantene-Ghiscari Empire attacked Vice Admiral Greyjoy of the coast of Qarth leaving him no choice but to retreat. There is also the matter of my armie’s situation here in Volantis. Ser Davos is a great help but with the slaves being liberated we are running out of provisions. We will continue to do our duty and will have victory or die in the attempt. Prince Brandon Targaryen.”  _ It felt like the war had been going on for ages but just half a year had passed. since her son and Tyrion’s son sailed to Essos. Dany put the letter down and turned to Ser Jorah. “What do you make of all this?” He shrugged. “Hard to say, your grace. The land battle has certainly gone our way. Volantis is cut off from any kind of aid for the time being and their army is far to the north. If they did decide to march back south they’ll run into Dothraki, and your son has all the approaches guarded if they did manage to make it past the Dothraki. I think the biggest problem Prince Brandon faces is what to do with all those extra mouths now that he has taken the western half of the city.” A dark thought entered her mind.  _ Sons of the Harpy.  _ “Do you think there will be attacks on his men in the city? When I took Meereen, Unsullied died everyday.” Ser Jorah laughed. “That side of the city? Not likely, you have to understand that for every one free man there are five slaves. These former slaves may have had an overseer here or there but they know them and the poor people who were free in Volantis owned no slaves so I doubt it matters much to them aside from the fact that they are now equals to the former slaves.”

 

Daenerys supposed he was right. “In any case we shall send a copy of this to Tycos. He wanted to be informed of any kind of development in the war.” “No need, I had the letter copied and sent a rider to the Saltpans. Tycos will know soon, that I can assure you.” She nodded. “Well my Queen, I should let you rest. If you really insist on holding a senate meeting I can wait, but it’s better for you if I went in your place.”  _ Still treats me like the girl I was so many years ago.  _ “If it puts your mind at ease then you may hold the meeting today.” Ser Jorah gave her a thin smile. “It would. I’ll speak with you later.” She stopped him. “Wait, would you like to hold my daughter?” Ser Jorah paused for a moment. “It would give me joy to do so.” After he was gone Daenerys sat up in her bed feeding her daughter. When it was time for supper Daenerys found she was not hungry. Just as he promised, Ser Jorah returned. “Find out any important developments at the meeting?” Ser Jorah seemed a bit concerned about the food but informed her of the news. “Princess Arianne Martell has men preparing to march in defense of the Westerlands to aid Ser Daven. That traitor, Robert Arryn, has started east towards Riverrun. The Mallisters and Asha Greyjoy remain defiant inside Seagard against a force of men Euron and Robert Arryn sent after them when the relief of the Twins was beaten back. Perwyn Frey is still inside his castle as well but thinks he can break out to aid Seagard. The problem there is Euron has men outside the Golden Tooth so Lord Frey would be essentially surrounded if he did that.” Dany was worried. The situation in the Riverlands was dire. Ser Jorah confirmed her fears. “Fairmarket is in Robert Arryn’s path and will most likely fall before Ser Tycos and Ser Edmure can save the city.” 

  
  


_ There has to be some good news to be had.  _ “Is that everything?” He gave her a bit of hope. “No, Lord Tyrion and your husband have landed at Weeping Town in the Stormlands. They didn’t want to risk their new ships and supplies docking at Storm’s End, but our Prime Minister and King are forming a new unit of archers from the Dornish Marches with a special kind of bow. The ships too are said to be top of the line, and are supposedly the fastest vessels on the open sea.”  _ That is good news.  _ “It would appear we have much to discuss with the Sunset Republic’s Senate.” Ser Jorah agreed. “We will, on the morrow, my Queen. You should rest.” She gave him a nod and a smile. “I know better than to argue about this, I will rest if it puts your mind at ease. We’ll hold the meeting in the afternoon, good night, Ser Jorah.” “Good night, Khaleesi.”  _ After all these years, he still refers to me as that from time to time. _

__ That morning after feeding her baby girl and eating some breakfast herself, she made her way to the meeting. She was early and had time to reflect on the hectic year that had passed. They were two moons into the new year and it was a rough few months. Besides the two guards outside the door and the two Royal Guard that were in the room with her, she felt alone. She cherished the two men in the room, however. Ser Ethero was a Dothraki and had been with her for nigh on twenty years. He had fought many battles on her behalf, especially against the dead. Ser Devan Seaworth was the other Royal Guard in the room and her husband appointed him that honour, mostly as a boon to Ser Davos, the boy’s father. At first, Dany had distrusted the boy due to his service to Stannis Baratheon but he was a loyal man like his father and had served both Jon and Daenerys with nothing less than the highest duty and obedience. The tall doors opened and Ser Jorah entered the room. He was also Royal Guard and was Daenerys’ sworn guardian ever since she was a frightened thirteen year old girl. He took the seat next to her on the right.

Soon the senators entered the hall, along with some other familiar faces. Byron Crakehall, Horford Brax, Marlon Hightower, Aleric Beesbury, Walton Manderly, Sigorn Thenn, Brynden Blackwood, Andrek Royce, Glidden Hunter, Dameron Seaworth, Elton Estermont, Albin Manwoody, Toregg Giantsbane, and Alver Ryk. The two missing senators Jaderic Dayne and Petyr Mallister were away prosecuting the war in different theatres. Petyr was under siege with his family and Asha in Seagard, and Jaderic Dayne was appointed command of the Dornish army being raised in Dorne. Three men who weren’t senators also joined them in this meeting. Garlan Tyrell had managed to make it to New Valyria after fighting a series of naval battles against remnants of Euron’s fleet. The former bastard of Robert Baratheon, Gendry Baratheon, who was also a commander and lord of Storm’s End joined them. Last, but certainly not least, was Ulton Hightower, who left his newly constructed keep on the Stepstones to be here.

After the herald announced their names, Daenerys thanked them for meeting on such short notice. “Honourable senators, and lords, against the advice of my protective knight, I felt it necessary to hold this meeting today. Many of you have questions no doubt. Others here, have news of importance to inform us of, so that is why we find ourselves here on this cold, snowy day. So first I’ll ask, what is being done to remedy the recent setbacks here in Westeros?” She looked directly at the senators representing the Vale. Royce and Hunter exchanged a look and Glidden Hunter cleared his throat. “Your grace, my fellow senators, I assure you that Lord Royce and myself had no inclination of treason from the Lord Paramount of the Vale. There are still loyal houses in the Vale but unfortunately, those loyal to the republic are pinned in their castles and will be of no immediate help in the Riverlands.” Daenerys knew which houses remained loyal in the Vale.  _ I only hope they can survive until we can aid them.  _

She looked to Brynden Blackwood next. He told them what news he could. “In the Riverlands, as lord of my house, I made sure to recruit more men to help liberate our people. We know our Lord Paramount, Ser Edmure, as well as the Field Marshall, Ser Tycos, plan on taking the fight to Euron and his lackeys. With lords Mallister, Frey, and Lefford all trapped, our foe has free reign to terrorize the Riverlands. The smallfolk have fled in the wake of Lord Arryn’s betrayal and I fear we will lose many towns and castles before Ser Edmure, and Ser Tycos can stop them. The Volantene-Ghiscari army under Euron Greyjoy, and the traitors under Lord Robert are said to number around forty five thousand. If we count Lady Lefford, the Mallisters, and the men under Lord Edmure, and Ser Tycos, we will have perhaps a third of that number. That is a generous estimate, as we are unsure of Lord Frey’s, Lady Lefford, and the Mallister forces, and their capabilities to fight. For all we know, they might have had their supplies depleted. It would be hard for them to aid each other when they are bottled up.”  _ He offers some hope at least.  _ She looked to the north men next. “What has the North been doing?” The fat Lord Walton cleared his throat. “Lord Thenn and myself have made sure we harvested all we could before summoning more levies.” Sigorn Thenn added to that. “House Manderly has provided much in the way of food and supplies. I have conferred with Toregg and Ryk and we have begun sending recruits to Moat Cailin.” Daenerys nodded, Ser Jorah cautioned them, however. “Keep around a thousand men, specifically archers to garrison Moat Cailin.” It was much the same talk from the other senators. Lords Brax and Crakehall discussed the fighting in the Westerlands, specifically the armies nearing each other at Lannisport. Estermont and Seaworth relayed the message from Lord Tyrion. The men they recruited were to be used manning their warships and if reinforcements were needed they would need more time and supplies.

Marlon Hightower and Aleric Beesbury insisted the men they had were needed defending Oldtown and Highgarden incase of attack. Daenerys turned to Lord Garlan Tyrell. “So if you are unable to send men to aid the other regions, what purpose do you have here?” Dany knew the knight was well respected. “Of course we could send men to aid the Westerlands, or the Riverlands. That is not why I hold them in reserve. We have a small force guarding the castles mentioned. I’m a seasoned knight, I’ve led men in war, and it would be folly to use up food stores and send untrained men into battle. Our Prime Minister has set me to task training the men because he said that is what we need. I came here to discuss with you the need for ships and weapons since Lord Davos went to Essos. I didn’t want to send a letter because of a few reasons. I didn’t want you to think the Reach was doing nothing while our countrymen die, and to inform you of our need. After what you did for me, your grace, I owe you that much.” He was referring to her giving him his home back after his family was killed in the war. Lord Gendry had come to discuss his war plans made with Lord Tyrion and her husband, as well as a marriage pact with House Lannister. Daenerys addressed Lord Ulton Hightower last. “What news from the Stepstones?” Lord Ulton aired out a few grievances. “Well, your Prime Minister took away some of my best men, apparently. Not that I’d complain about that sellsword being gone, but we are sparsely defended. If the enemy attacks us, we won’t be able to hold them back.” Daenerys wasn’t as experienced as some of the other lords in the room, luckily for her, Ser Jorah was one of the lords. “The islands won’t fall if you have your shorelines dotted with the siegecraft Ser Tycos told you to use at the fixed positions. You have a strong castle and two thousand men, not to mention the only real threat you face comes from Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh.”  

 

Lord Ulton was about to argue before Dany raised a hand. “That’s enough, we have enemies, here, on our own soil. Lord Ulton, if you need more men as bad as you say, we will vote on whether or not to aid you.” He wasn’t pleased with her answer. “But, your grace..” She raised her hand for silence yet again. “Lord Ulton Hightower has asked for more men to help defend the Stepstones, I see no reason why we couldn’t spare some aid to him. I propose sending a thousand more soldiers. It might not be the number you desire, my lord, but it should be sufficient.” The Senate passed the proposal without any real dispute. Daenerys seemed satisfied. “If there is nothing else I think our affairs here are done. Thank you all for your guidance during these tough times.” The senators all stood up, some came to her to congratulate her on giving birth to her daughter. When it was just Ser Jorah, her Royal Guard, and herself, she decided she’d listen to petitioners in the throne room for a bit before retiring to bed to spend time with her daughter. “If there is nothing else, Dany, I must have a meeting of my own with the Royal Guard.” She granted Ser Jorah’s request. As she was leaving, Ser Jorah called her name. “Oh, I almost forgot. One of my new Royal Guard knights, Ser Podrick Payne, is also a loyal man. He had served as the leader of Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa’s personal guard. He has made a request to travel to the Stormlands to guard King Jon, and Lord Tyrion. I told him I could speak to you about the matter.”  _ I suppose.  _ “He has permission from me. No if you’ll excuse me, Ser Jorah, I have the delight of addressing petitioners.” She said with a sarcastic smile. As she walked, she thought of everything they discussed today in the Senate. Ravens had flown, one bound for Jon and Tyrion, the other bound for Tycos and Edmure. The stage was now set for the upcoming battles.  _ Let us hope the gods are with us. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, as much as I love matters of war, these kind of meetings take place a lot during such times and I feel compelled to show you how our characters would react to the war and how to prosecute it.


	26. Euron I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A battle in the Westerlands

Euron stood on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the Sunset Sea. The sky was a mixture of pink and orange as the sun was fading into the distance. Euron’s bastard, Rafford, who was an unwilling participant in the upcoming events, was next to him. “Come now, look at that.” His bastard cocked his head. “At what?” Euron waved a hand across the horizon. “How can you be so gloomy on a day like this?” Euron asked with a grin. His good eye was gleaming with hunger at the prize near at hand. “Father, I don’t know if this is a good plan.”  _ Why would the Drowned God see fit to bestow such as this boy on me?  _ “It is a sound plan if you are of sound mind. Come now, drink with me.” Euron handed the boy a wineskin. Rafford took a drink and immediately spit out the contents. “What is this vile substance?” Euron smiled enigmatically. “Shade of the Evening.”

The boy wrinkled his nose but continued to drink the substance. Euron saw the city he once attacked during the Baratheon rebellion. Well, in truth, it had been Victarion who attacked the dockyard of Lannisport. Euron was the brains behind the attack though. In Euron’s old age he had lost none of his cleverness and hoped to pull off another surprise on the unsuspecting Westerlands.  _ Will the lion cast his line in the water or is he smarter than that?  _ For this plan to work, his bastard had to do his part. Euron wasn’t concerned if Rafford won the battle, he only needed him to bait Ser Daven into the attack. To help Rafford set the trap, he told him he would attack Lannisport. Sure, he’d be cut to bloody pieces if he attacked the city, but the main attack wasn’t taking place here. Rafford was no tactician but had reservations. 

“And you’re sure I must attack the gate?” “If you want your share of the spoils.” The boy swallowed. “You give me four thousand men, how many men do they have in the city?” Euron shrugged. “We’re Ironborn, you need superior numbers? Are you sure you aren’t the son of a fisherman and a whore?” The boy’s face was red. “You sired me on a fisherman’s wife…” Euron laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on now, boy, we shall rest. I leave in a few hours. Lannister forces are a day away from us if my scouts are to be believed. “How many men does he have?” “He has five thousand, maybe more, maybe less. He can’t fully commit to fighting me and leaving his liege lord’s wife undefended so he split his forces. “You leave me with no mounted soldiers, Ser Daven will cut through my men like wet parchment.” The bastard wasn’t wrong. The truth was that a heavy horse made up the entirety of Ser Daven’s army. “We have mounted riders too, boy.” “You mean you have…” Rafford’s face changed from passive disappointment to realization in an instant. Euron laughed again.

“Get some rest, you have a city to attack in the morning.” Euron left him to wake his men who were already resting. They had a special task to complete, and would have a long night. If everyone was to be believed, this Daven Lannister would be a cunning, skillful opponent. Euron was eager to try him. The army on the march with Euron had in it around a thousand mounted lances from New Ghis, a thousand men of the Ninth Legion of Volantis, and most important was archers out of the Free Cities. His bastard had the legion while Euron took the rest of the men. It was a slow march with the archers on foot. If Euron was lucky, Ser Daven would help bridge the gap with his own march. Soon the sun could be seen rising from the east, and Euron knew it was time for Rafford to attack.  _ If the boy is smart he will stay out of range from their archers and wait for the lion.  _

If Euron was bearing down on another castle, Ser Daven might have been cautious, but Euron chose Lannisport because of the family the Lannisters had in the city. Emotion was a key part of the trap. There was no time to stop now, Euron swung his pincer northwest in anticipation of the Lannister army, and he began to march south again. Rafford would be meeting his foe soon if everything played out as planned. An hour passed without sight of the enemy, after a few hours of marching, the sound of steel was finally heard. One of the scouts rode up to Euron. “We’ve found them, should we attack?” Euron shook his head. “We need to get closer, we can take him in the rear but they need to be in range of our archers.” Euron turned around. “Come on boys, we’re almost upon them.”  Minute by minute their men crept up on their foe. Finally Euron pointed his sword. “Charge them now!” It was good that he gave the order, Rafford’s men were being slaughtered. Men fell under the large mounted charge unleashed by Ser Daven. The sound of agony and steel mixed together. Men were crushed under the horses before them, and from behind them arrows were falling.  _ So the fool actually attacked the gate. Amusing.  _ Euron was right up front with his men. He was no coward, he was Ironborn, and he’d never shy away from death. Arrows flew overhead as his men rode steadfast towards the enemy who had no inclination of the carnage riding their way. The volley caught their attention and Ser Daven especially, he was stationed in the reserve line. He shouted something to the man next to him and a trumpet was sounded. Part of the force commanded by Ser Daven wheeled their horses around to meet Euron’s attack. A loud thunder of steel erupted as both armies crashed into each other. Euron cut the tip of a lance off with his sword while his axe was buried into the skull of the man trying to kill him. A Ghiscari man next to him took a lance to the heart and another to his eye socket. Euron killed one of the men responsible for the death.

Euron’s horse reared up in terror as it took a lance slash to the leg. He barely held on in the saddle, and when the horse landed he threw his axe at the man hitting him directly in the throat. Now armed with just his sword, Euron avoided another lance aimed at his heart by catching the shaft right above the tip of the blade, and cut the man’s head clear from the shoulder. Arrows still flew by and Euron knew they’d stop soon once he was deep within the ranks of the Lannister army. “Euron!” He heard a rough voice shout and turned to see a Lannister soldier in red enameled plate and gold trimmed cloak. Judging by the fine armour, Euron knew it was Ser Daven. A Ghiscari man rode full speed at Ser Daven with a spear and caught a sword in the mouth for his trouble, his teeth shattered and half his head fell off.  _ You’re mine.  _ Euron charged him without fear. Euron was obviously not the horse rider Ser Daven was so when Euron tried dealing a death blow, Ser Daven sunk low and managed to bite into the top of the horse’s neck, Euron was barely able to avoid the sword. He fell from his horse. Euron was nearly crushed when he saw his horse falling at the last moment. He rolled toward Ser Daven’s horse and paid him back in kind, sticking the sword point into the creature’s throat. Euron saw something amazing as Ser Daven actually stood upright in the saddle and did a flip as the animal fell to the ground dying. He landed on his feet, but Euron was on him. “You die now, Greyjoy.” He smiled at Ser Daven. “I think not.” Euron slashed at him but the knight pivoted to completely avoid the blow. Ser Daven lunged the point toward Euron’s chest but was met with steel. In what felt like hours, both of them couldn’t best the other. A two hand swing from Ser Daven was narrowly avoided and Euron felt something warm on his forehead, blood. Euron slipped and landed on his ass, Ser Daven saw his chance and ran at him. Euron was about to die as Lannister lifted his sword above his head. 

Euron might very well have died if he hadn’t stuck his right leg out into Ser Daven’s chest, flipping him through the air. Euron rolled onto his side just in time to see two Lannister soldiers rushing off with Ser Daven. Euron noticed the gate of Lannisport was open and the enemy was retreating inside. Archers rained arrows down at anyone stupid enough to pursue them. Some of the enemy soldiers remained on the field but were quickly killed or captured. Any injured soldier outside the walls were slaughtered on sight. The battle was over by nightfall. It was a victory for Euron, but a costly one. At least half of his army was killed, including Rafford. Euron wouldn’t mourn the loss of the boy, in truth he had little love for the bastard, and had plenty more to replace him. It would be harder to replace the men lost today. He didn’t have enough to take Lannisport, nor enough for the Golden Tooth. He had Ser Daven pinned in the city though, and if Grazdan Zikathy could be believed, YiTi was on the side of the Volantene Ghiscari Empire. They’d just have to deal with the two boys Tyrion Lannister and Jon Targaryen sent to fight them. Euron had little doubt they’d be defeated if what he heard was true.

Euron was drinking wine in his tent while a healer saw to his wound. The man was no maester but did a good enough job on him. Euron now had to wait and see how things would go in the Riverlands. “Captain?” Euron dismissed the man who saw to his wounds. “Come in.” The man was one of his own, Ironborn. “Speak, Kellen.” The man pulled out a scroll. “Robert Arryn sent this letter.” Euron started reading it.  _ ‘We move east against the Lannister boy. He defeated those fools in Essos, but he was lucky they weren’t the Knights of the Vale. I will make him pay.’  _ Euron took another swallow of wine. “Why the Volantene and Ghiscari put trust in him, I don’t know. I guess they don’t know the weakling like they do here.” Kellen had more to tell him. “We have word that Garlan Tyrell is preparing to march from the Reach.  _ Now that is bad news. _

“Kellen, I want pickets watching day and night. We can’t fight them, not right now.” Kellen soon left after that.  _ If Tyrell attacks, we’d have no chance.  _ Euron threw his challice violently, spilling the contents.  _ I’d have to tuck my tail, and run.  _ “Captain, there’s a man here to see you.” It was Kellen again. “Who?” Kellen opened the tent flap and the map walked in. Euron looked the man up and down, and laughed. “Another traitor to the Sunset Republic?” 

**Author's Note:**

> We all knew about the Great War with the dead. I kind of picture Tyrion to be a Winston Churchill type person. Really intelligent and exactly what their respective nations needed in trying times. 
> 
> Anyways, I welcome all comments. I like any kind of advice or suggestions too. My rule of thumb is constructive critique and no toxic behavior. If you guys don't like some of the stuff you see then gladly let me know how to improve the story.  
> I have a lot of college writing and English under my belt, and hopefully I live up to that education I paid for


End file.
